


One Night Stand

by OysterChateau



Category: Invader Zim
Genre: 'Mild' Sexual Assault on the MC, Abusive Parents, Alcohol and Intoxication, Blood, Canon Typical Violence, Cuddling & Snuggling, Enemies die in semi-comical ways, F/M, First Kiss, First Time, Flashbacks of Zim's smeethood (they're pretty sad), Gentle femdom, Horror Elements, Idiots in Love, MC is a wanted criminal, MC is very 'touchy', MC is very bitey, Making Out, Non-sexual (sic) Tickling, Partners in Crime, Stargazing, The MC cooks for Zim, The MC is a cottagecore girl, The MC likes Tolkien, Zim and the MC play Pokémon together, Zim and the MC sing to each other at some point, Zim awkwardly consoles the MC, Zim being an Asshole, Zim being an Idiot, Zim being in denial about liking the MC, Zim confesses (sort of), Zim consoles the MC, Zim cries like a fountain, Zim deals with his trauma, Zim gets jealous, Zim has questionable seduction tactics, Zim is a needy attention-seeker, Zim is hurt and the MC medicates him, Zim is kind of a sub here, Zim is protective, Zim is sad and the MC consoles him, Zim laughs evilly, Zim medicates the MC, Zim messes up his mission real bad, Zim works through his personality issues through the MC's love, Zim's defectiveness is treated as neurodivergence, should I even put a tag for every single sex act they do omg, the MC won't let Zim deny reality any longer, these tags are too chaotic I really need to rewrite them
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-06
Updated: 2021-02-15
Packaged: 2021-02-26 03:48:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 22
Words: 200,399
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21687100
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OysterChateau/pseuds/OysterChateau
Summary: After a night of passion together (sort of), a space-stranded Zim and a wanted human outlaw form a reluctant alliance to achieve their respective goals. But as they work together for their own interests, the feelings from that first night start to resurface...(NSFW chapters are marked with an *, if you're a minor or uncomfortable with such content please don't interact with them (or with the story at all))
Relationships: Zim (Invader Zim)/Original Female Character(s), Zim (Invader Zim)/Reader
Comments: 408
Kudos: 434





	1. The Gloomy Space Bar

**Author's Note:**

> I tagged this as a /reader fic because that's what it was supposed to be in the beginning but I felt uncomfortable with the second person perspective. The pov character doesn't have a name anyway so I think it's fairly easy to project onto her. I hope.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A boring night prospects in front of the space-traveling, totally law-abiding human Driver, when a mysterious stranger steps into the same gloomy bar she's sitting in... (yes, it's Zim)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> EDIT (10/12/2020): fixed some of the prose; made some changes to the dialogue and Driver's thoughts, making them more in line with the current story. Zim also doesn't immediately act like a huge a-hole. That comes afterward. Hehe

Driver stepped out of the teleporter cabin.

She felt a shiver running down her spine; her left leg trembled under her weight, and she had to lean on the teleporter’s wall not to lose balance. She let out a quiet, annoyed groan: she would probably never get used to those things, no matter how many times she traveled through them.

She would have much rather used her space ship to reach the bar, but one of its engines had been heavily damaged during the last mission, and she wasn’t going to put it under any more stress before it could be repaired: she could in no way afford another one at the moment, and, in case it stopped working away from home, space _towie_ service was incredibly expensive.

Still, she didn’t want to miss a chance for a night out either: the aforementioned mission had been exceptionally stressful and long, so she needed _-she deserved_ a night to herself, where she could flush her weariness and thoughts away with a little bit of _booze._

She pulled her teleportation key out of teleporter's lock and put it back in her pants’ back pocket. She exhaled, her body now over the teleportation-induced shock, passed through the security laser scanner, and entered the space bar proper.

A human would have normally turned the attention of a bunch of space-traveling aliens, for humans lived in an isolated little galaxy which the vast majority of them had never traveled out of -'the vast majority' meaning, at least to her knowledge, everyone except _her-_ but by this point she was a _regular_ in that bar, and so were almost all the other clients. Even so, she had never held a proper conversation with any of them; only sparse greeting gestures, a “how is it going” every now and then, _occasionally_ their respective professions -case in which she would always say she was a delivery woman, which wasn’t _entirely_ untrue. She hardly ever got to the point of sharing names, though, she guessed, it wasn't much of a big deal for someone like her who didn't even use a _real name_ anymore.

She promptly headed to the bar top, weakly nodding at a couple of known faces on her way; she sat on one of the stools and greeted the barman:

"Hello there! How are you?" she politely smiled at him, "Could I please have a pitcher of space light beer?"

The blue, blob-like barman eyed her as his tentacles scrubbed the inside of glass with a dishrag.

"So the usual, miss?" he mumbled in his usual grumpy manner. "Coming right up", he put down the glass with the others and turned to prepare her order.

Her smile didn’t falter despite the cold attitude of the barman. She didn’t take it personally, as he wasn’t really a happy-go-lucky guy with anyone; besides, she too occasionally herself found herself to be distrustful or even _repulsed,_ frankly, in front of a new alien species. And in the dangerous depth of space, being distrustful was often a life-saving attribute. It even had a certain _charm_ to it. And she appreciated how he still maintained some semblance of polite professionalism by calling her 'miss'; she liked to think it meant he'd secretly grown attached to her, as a client.

"A light _space beer_ for the miss" the barman announced as he placed the pitcher in front of her.

_Space bar… space bar… aliens really have no imagination when it comes to names._

"Thank you very much" she smiled at him once again; he murmured a barely-intelligible 'You're welcome', and turned back around to scrub his glasses.

Driver picked the pitcher up by the handle and slowly started sipping on her beer; as she drank, she turned around to look at the rest of the clientele: most of them were sitting alone at their tables, backs bent and eyes steadily focused on their drinks as if they were deliberately trying to avoid each other’s gazes. Three of them were playing some kind of card game -excuse you, _space_ card game-, another two were in the opposite corner playing space billiards. A low, lazy tune was coming from the speakers in the ceiling's corners to complete this gloomy picture.

She usually liked the calmness of the bar, but tonight’s air was just straight up depressing, and even worse, _boring._ She turned back again and kept on drinking her beer.

_Damn, it’s like they all just got back from a funeral or something. Maybe I should have just stayed home and spent some time with Cat. If I had any booze at home I would have probably done that, too._

As she was lost in her thoughts, someone opened and closed the bar’s main door behind themselves; her brain barely registered it.

They approached the top bar, but again, she hardly noticed the faint sound of their tiny boots stepping on the floor.

Only when they jumped and sat two stools to her right did she actually notice the newly arrived client; she didn’t turn to look at their face out of politeness -aliens were _very_ sensitive and defensive about foreign gazes in this part of the universe. She _did_ take note of two things, though: their small stature, and their shiny black boots.

 _I gotta ask where they got those from,_ she thought, discreetly eyeing them without turning her face.

The stranger spoke in a slow, raspy and yet somewhat high-pitched voice to the barman, who had just turned to them:

_“Bar-drone, serve me a cold schmoothy”._

The commanding, weirdly-phrased order made her ears perk up; she also took note, that that stranger was probably _male,_ though his voice leaned more to the ambiguous, _androgynous_ side, as many alien voices did.

The barman looked him up and down, then stated in his half-monotone, half-brash tone:

"Sorry, we don’t serve _children_ here. Where are your _parents?"_

The stranger jumped and stood up on the stool with unexpectedly lightning-quick speed, so that his eyes were now at the same level as the barman’s.

 _"CCCHIIILD?! WHO ARE YOU CALLING A CHILD?!?"_ he shouted, arching his back backwards and dramatically pointing his finger at the barman.

His shouting broke the usual near-silence of the bar and all the clients turned their eyes to him; Driver’s looked at him with the most curiosity.

She had never seen an alien of his species: he had green, smooth skin, two antennae on the top of his head instead of hair, no nose, and two huge ruby eyes, which were now furiously pointed at the barman.

 _They look like jewels,_ she absentmindedly thought.

"I am no child, and I will have _none_ of your insolence, _you filthy drink-serving filth-drone!"_ he continued, accompanying each insult with a waving of his pointed finger.

"Now _do your job_ and _serve – me – that – SCHMOOTHY!!!"_ he additionally emphasized that last part by rhythmically stomping his right foot on the stool.

Then, he locked his angry eyes even more firmly, jaws clenched and gritted teeth exposed, a low growl erupting from the back of his throat.

The barman, who had been looking at him completely unphased and unresponsive during the entirety of his wrathful outburst, calmly, quietly replied:

"My apologies, _sir._ I probably phrased it _wrong._ What I meant is, we don’t serve _kids’ drinks_ here. And we don’t serve _off-menu"_ he clarified, not bothering at all to hide a hint of hostility in his tone.

The stranger’s pose somewhat loosened, but his eyes actually narrowed even more, probably picking up on the barman's fake polite act.

Ultimately though, he gave up on arguing with the bartender:

 _"FFFfffine._ Give me one of your _me–nus,_ then" he bitterly spat, crossing his arms on his chest.

The barman grabbed a menu from under the counter and handed it over to him, who aggressively took it with a swift sweep of his arm.

"Though I highly doubt I'll find anything remotely _drinkable_ on this dirty piece of paper!" the stranger hissed, as if continuing his previous statement, "Don't expect me to ever come back to this filthy _bar of yours,_ too!"

 _"What a loss"_ the barman commented with the most evident sarcasm as the stranger walked to an empty couch on the left side of the local.

Contrary to the rest of the clients, who were now back to their previous activities as if nothing had ever happened, Driver was _brimming_ with interest and curiosity, having quietly observed the whole discussion from her stool, still sipping on her beer, like she was sitting in the front seat of a theater.

Careful not to be heard by the stranger, she turned to the barman and quietly asked:

"Excuse me, what species is that fellow exactly?"

The barman, who had gotten back to scrubbing his glasses, replied:

"That’s an _Irken,_ miss. They’re some real bad crowd. I was really hoping he would take the hint and just leave, to be honest" he added more quietly.

"What kind of bad crowd?" she asked. Apparently, the barman’s dislike for this Irken race was so great it had caused him to forget the one against her.

"The _pillaging, murdering, planet-sweeping_ kind of bad crowd" he explained, a dark expression on his face. "Yet, for many aspects they resemble _children_ a lot. 'Better not getting involved with them. At least this one seems to be traveling alone. _Strangely._ And hopefully, after tonight I won’t have to see another one of them in my bar _ever again"_ he concluded harshly.

Driver took a look at the Irken sitting on the couch: his short legs were hanging in the air, as they were too short to touch the floor; his big, bug-like ruby eyes were attentively searching the menu; his antennae were resting behind his head, twitching from time to time.

 _That cute little guy is a mass-murderer?,_ she wondered incredulously. But thinking back to the fiery rage with which he had responded to the barman’s insult, it didn’t look _that_ implausible.

Driver bit her lips. Would it be that risky to approach him in any way? Her experience with alien creatures advised her so, but something about him was incredibly _alluring_ to her. Maybe it was the contrasting, albeit scarce information about him: he looked small and cute, but had a fiery temperament, and if the barman were to be believed, his race consisted of _murderous, vicious savages._

And yet, especially now that he was calmer, he appeared so _lonely_ and _sad,_ his eyes _weary_ and _tired._

She had come to the bar seeking refuge from the usual, chaotic adventures that her job entailed, but now that she looked at that mysterious Irken stranger, she felt she wouldn’t mind risking to get into another one. Plus, he didn’t seem to be armed at all (not _heavily_ at least). She just had to be careful and keep a hand on the ray-gun hidden under her jacket.

She turned to the barman again:

"Say, you don’t serve off menu, but do you do table service?"

Her request seemed to break the spell that had made the barman briefly act so exceptionally friendly to her, as he looked at her like she had just insulted his mother and drowned his first-born child. And maybe even made out with his wife. All at the same time.

"… yes. _Yes I do"_ he finally muttered, voice full of pain and regret.

"Well, then. I think I’ll soon be making use of your… _table services"_ she beamed, and with a graceful twirl she jumped off her stool, beer in her hand, and made her way to the couch the Irken was sitting on.

He was so focused on reading the menu still, that he didn’t notice her approach at all, much like she hadn’t noticed his earlier. She stood next to the small table in front of the couch, and trying to sound and look as confident as possible, she greeted him:

"Hello. May I sit here?", and she pointed at the empty spot to his right.

The Irken quickly turned his head up to face her and immediately his eyes widened in stupor. His mouth slowly opened as to try and say something, but nothing came out of it, remaining half-open.

She was unsure of the reason behind his reaction, but she continued unperturbed:

"I’ll take that as a yes, thank you" she said, and she quickly slipped onto the couch, putting her now half-empty pitcher on the table.

"So, have you found anything that interests you?"

He was still looking at her, in complete disbelief. It was starting to make her nervous, and her mind started to race: maybe he just wasn’t used to female attention? Well, that would have been really _endearing._ Or maybe he thought she looked extremely pretty? But, what if he actually thought she was extremely _ugly?_ He didn’t seem disgusted though, just _shocked…_

"I, uh… _what?"_ he quietly stammered; his confused expression was so adorable, it made her heart skip a beat.

"You know. The drinks. Have you made your pick?" she explained as she tapped on the menu he was holding.

His eyes followed her hand; then went back to her face as she drew her hand back.

"Are you… _a human?"_ he asked, confusion and disbelief palpable in his tone.

Now it was Driver's turn to be surprised and confused: he was the first alien so far who had ever recognized her species in the almost ten years that she'd spent in space.

 _He knows what a human is? How?,_ she wondered, her curiosity now twice as intense as before.

Still, she tried not to betray her feelings and play it cool:

"Hell yeah I am. What about it?" she smirked.

"What… _How_ did you get here?" he asked back.

"Via teleporter" she replied, and pointed at the teleportation cabins on the opposite side of the room.

"Humans have _teleporters?"_ he said, his body now fully turned to her; his hands were grasping the menu so tightly, the paper was being crumpled under his fingers, but he didn’t seem to be aware of it.

"Well, not really, but _I do"_ she said, a hint of pride in her voice. "How do you know what humans are? We- "

"So you escaped from Earth on a _teleporter?!"_ he interrupted her; he suddenly stood up, and got uncomfortably close to her face: "Where is it located?! You need to give me its coordinates! _Speak, Earth-woman!"_ he shouted.

_What the HELL is his deal?_

Hand on her concealed gun, she tried to keep her voice calm and replied:

"I used the teleporter to get here from my _house._ I didn’t leave _Earth_ on a teleporter. I used a _space ship._ I am pretty sure that there are no teleporters on Earth. Sorry if that was confusing".

All that inquisitive enthusiasm of his seemed to steeply drop in one moment.

"Oh..." he let out, evidently disappointed.

Then, all of a sudden, his energy seemed to swing right back in, though not quite as high as before:

"But! But! Where did you get this spaceship in the first place? And how did you manage to resist the Earth gravitational pull?!"

"I’m sorry, but I can’t tell you whom I got the spaceship from. What I can tell you is that they were not human and no human knows about it. As for your second question, any standard non-earthen spaceship is able to breach the Earth’s atmosphere with no excessive strain" she calmly explained.

The Irken fell back on the couch, even more gloomy-looking than before. He quite literally looked like a _deflated balloon._

Driver sighed in relief. He seemed to have calmed down, and _probably_ wasn't gonna force her to use her _very illegal_ ray-gun after all. Still, how did he know about humans and the Earth? Why was he even so _interested_ in them?

"When exactly did you leave Earth?" he asked her, his corrugated expression emptily pointed at the table in front of him.

"I don’t know exactly. Maybe something like seven or eight Earth years ago?"

He nodded thoughtfully; he didn’t seem to want to continue this conversation, so despite her curiosity, she didn’t press him any further. Was this whole _Earth thing -_ whatever 'thing' might have exactly meant- the main reason his mood was so down?

 _If that's the case, who better than an Earthling to cheer him up?,_ she reasoned. Maybe this way, she would have found what the connection between this Irken and her home planet was!

_And besides, this guy is way too cute to be so sad._

With this new objective in mind, Driver turned back to her usual happy and kind demeanor, and spoke with a comforting voice:

"You know what? You really look like you need a drink. Give me here" she easily grabbed the menu from his hands, which he seemed to have forgotten to be holding.

"There must be something here that you like" she said as she read through it. " I don’t think they’ve got anything like a schmoothy though…"

The Irken waved a dismissive hand at her.

"Nah, I can’t drink any of that putrid stuff anyway" he said in a boring voice.

"Really? Like, there’s really nothing that you like here?"

"They all have alcohol in them" he pouted, crossing his arms on his chest.

"I must admit, you didn’t really strike me as a straight-edge type of guy" she noted.

He side-eyed her, and explained to her, in a rather conceited tone:

 _"Invaders_ don’t stoop so _low_ as to _drink alcohol"._

'Invader'? This guy was a _planet-invader_ by profession?

_Thrilling._

"Oh, come on. What's a little bit of _ethanol_ while you're off duty? You know, I-", she looked around the room, "-don't see any of your superiors here. And if there's one thing I am _not,_ is a _snitch"_ she turned back to him and winked, a complicit smirk on her face.

"I mean, you didn't come here to _look_ at a menu and not drink anything, did you?"

"I-I, uhm..." the Irken looked down at his fiddling fingers in an unsure, shy gesture.

"I just wanted something _sweet_ to drink, is all" he mumbled.

Driver felt her cheeks flare up, along with a strong desire to hug and squeeze the little alien in her arms.

_Oh my God. This guy is the epitome of cuteness._

"Why don’t you try a sip of my beer first?" she proposed, and she gently nudged the pitcher towards him. "It's not exactly sweet, but it's very _light._ Since you came all the way down here, so why not make it the least bit worth it with a new _experience?"_

He looked between her and the drink, unsure still. It was like some kind of battle was going on inside his head, one part of his mind curious to taste the beverage and the other still firm in its resolve _not_ to. After a while, he cautiously leaned over the glass and smelled the content.

_So he does have a nose… somewhere there._

"Uhm... won't I... get _drunk,_ if I drink it?" he asked, his eyes still pointed at the glass, as if diverting his attention would have given the liquid the chance to jump out and assault him.

"Aw, don't worry" she reassured him in an understanding voice, "A little sip won't do anything. You won't even _feel_ it".

The Irken sighed. He turned to her, and finally said:

“Alright, _fine._ But just ONE sip”.

With his left hand he poked on a plate on the _metal object_ on his back; she had paid no real attention to it: she had unconsciously assumed it had to be some kind of alien object-carrier. Her guess seemed to be correct, as the plate rose and he drew a straw out his… _metal backpack._

He was about to dip the straw into the drink, but right before its tip actually touched the liquid’s surface, he turned to her again and asked:

 _"Space_ beer, right?"

"Uh- what?"

"This is a _space_ beer, not a filthy human-dirt beer, right?"

"Yes, of course" she nodded.

 _Damn, I’ve never seen anyone being so picky about a free drink. And what about the straw? Does he think I’m contagious or something?,_ she mentally commented.

Still, she watched him sink the straw's end in the beverage with great anticipation, hoping with all her heart that he'd like that first taste of alcohol.

The Irken tentatively sucked at the straw, and got a bit of the beer inside his mouth. He savored it. Then, he finally swallowed it.

He said nothing for a few seconds, looking impassible and somewhat thoughtful in front of himself. That weird silence made her nervous; she wondered if maybe he was so disgusted, he wasn't capable of even uttering a word.

"...So? How was it?" she asked, still trying to maintain her calm facade.

"It’s not… _as bad as I thought it would be"_ he finally muttered. "In fact… _I kind of almost like it"_ he expressed this last admission with what looked like a huge strain.

It was like he had just now broken some kind of dogmatic belief he had held his entire life. He probably _had,_ and all thanks to _her._ Driver felt a surge of pride at that thought.

Loaded with newfound energy, she continued:

"You know, they probably have things you’ll like even more here. I get that you like a sweet taste, yes? There are plenty of _sweet_ drinks, you know?"

"… I suppose" he tentatively agreed.

"Well, then, why don’t you try some kind of bubbly wine? _This_ type has a fruity aroma to it, much like a schmoothy" she tapped on a wine's name written on the menu, "Yeah, it seems like something you would like. You know what, don’t worry about the money, this one’s on me"

"What? No, wait- " before he could finish, she stood up and got the attention of the barman by waving her hand:

" _Barman?_ Could you please bring us a bottle of Space Fuzzy Red Wine number 45X and _two_ glasses?"

Assured that he had got the order (his suffering, glaring expression was _very_ telling), she sat back and kindly smiled at the now much confused Irken.

"... What’s your actual deal, human? Who _are_ you really? Why are you doing this for me?" he asked, his face and voice full of suspicion.

"Heh. Try and _guess"_ she suavely chuckled.

"... to... _ambush_ me?" he tried.

"Hah! _What?!"_ she couldn't help but scoff at his insinuation. This guy was a very anxious type, wasn't he? And very _clueless_ about _flirting,_ too...

"I'm afraid _no_ _t_ _"_ she shook her head. "I mean... unless you got something _valuable_ on you" she then quietly added with a mischievous grin.

The Irken blinked at her, his confused, suspicious frown deepening.

"That's a _joke._ This is just the bar I usually go to in my free time" she explained.

 _"Ah._ Well, that doesn't explain why you came and talked to me. Or why you wanna give me _alco-hol_ to drink" he retorted, a bit of a harsh edge to his voice.

He probably wasn't in the mood for jokes. Not yet, anyway. Better go on and be _blunt..._

"Okay, _look"_ she took a long gulp of her beer, emptying the glass, exploiting that time to think of a good, articulated answer.

Once the beer was finished, she put down the pitcher and resumed:

"You see, I had just returned from a rather _long_ mission. I was hoping a nice booze-up would get me back in shape, but this place’s boring-ness was wearing me out more than the mission itself. Until _you_ came in" she turned her body to him, eyes full of enthusiastic curiosity. "You look so... _interesting_ and _mysterious_ to me. I can't pinpoint why, I just feel a sort of _pull_ towards you- if you, uhm... _know what I mean"_ she suggestively wiggled her eyebrows.

The Irken stared at her in an utterly perplexed expression.

"No" he said, "no, I really don’t".

Before he could express himself further, the barman came up to them and placed the bottle of wine and the two glasses on the table.

“There you go” he begrudgingly murmured. Then, he turned around and went back to the top bar as swiftly as he came.

The Irken glared at him as he slithered away from them and whispered something about him under his breath. Driver couldn’t really hear what he said, but she felt like she agreed.

"Yeah, he’s rather rude. Never mind him, he’s like that to everyone" she reassured him with a nod of her head.

She opened the bottle and poured the wine into the two glasses.

"Have a taste!" she encouraged him with a big smile.

Once again, he looked at the glass with an unsure expression.

Then, he turned back to her and said:

"You know, I _really_ should be going", and he placed his hands on the couch like he was about to jump off it.

"What? But I even paid for it!" she protested.

"Actually, you still haven’t paid. And I never asked you to do that"

"But I will! Oh, please, stay here!" she begged him.

She reached to caress his arm, but he instantly jerked away from her. Afraid she would lose him for good, Driver just dived in taking her last chance, and explained:

"Look, you really look like you’ve got something... _unpleasant_ going on for you. I don’t expect you to tell me what it is- I don’t necessarily even want you to! I just want, in my small way, to make you feel better, if just for tonight!" she spoke with genuine concern, hands joined in a pleading gesture.

His antennae perked up in interest, his curious eyes now locked into hers. Though he didn't look like he wanted to leave anymore, he still seemed pretty dubious about her actual intentions.

"But… _why?"_ he asked.

"I already told you!" she said smiled hopefully, "You _intrigue_ me".

Still as confused as ever, he raised a hand to his chin, seemingly pondering on her words. His antennae were swinging left and right, independently from each other, as if his processing brain was causing them to mechanically move. His pretty eyes were staring her down, glimmering with inquisitive, curious intelligence.

His focused gaze made her blush. _God, he looks so cute._

Like she did with the pitcher, she placed one of the glasses full of wine directly in front of him.

"Come on, just take one sip".


	2. Zim's Newfound Taste for Fuzzy Wine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Irken stranger lets just one bit of his facade drop following Driver's offering and the two get closer (read: get drunk out of their minds).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> EDIT (10/12/2020): rewrote some parts of the dialogue between Driver and Zim, to up their chemistry. Not very major changes, though.

"Come on, just take one sip" she chirped.

The suspicious Irken looked at the foreign fuzzy drink in the glass. He slowly turned his head back up at her:

"How do I know you and that bar-drone didn't poison this liquid?” he insinuated, “You two know each other from before, don’t you?"

She frowned at him in annoyed frustration: she had never met another alien as distrustful as he was, and that was saying _a lot_.

“C’mon. Look at him. Not to be mean, but. Do you really think Mister Sunshine over there has any friends?”

 _“Psh!”_ the Irken suffocated the giggle that was about to erupt from his mouth. “I-I mean. Yeah, but that doesn’t mean you’re not conspiring together” he continued with more composure.

Driver rolled her eyes; she grabbed the bottle, his drink and her own glass, and took a gulp out of each of them, the Irken’s eyes attentively following each and every one of her moves.

“ _See?”_ she huffed, putting that last glass down, “No one here is conspiring to _assassinate_ you. I'm just offering you _a drink._ It's a _human gesture of courtesy._ _Relax,_ _will ya?_ "

Once again, he looked suspiciously between her and the glass. Just when she thought he would not drink it after all, he dipped the straw in the wine and sucked on it.

This time, as he swallowed, his antennae straightened up on his head, his eyes twitched and his body shivered: the alcohol content in the wine was much higher than the one in the beer, and the sensation of hot alcohol pouring down his throat must have been entirely new to him.

Driver observed him with a mixture of fun and apprehension.

_God, I hope that doesn't make him sick._

As he parted his mouth from the straw however, his face wore an expression of _pleasant surprise._

 _"This is actually not bad at all..."_ he said, more to himself than to her.

She smiled wider at him:

"See? I knew you would like it. Why would your superiors forbid you from drinking alcohol?"

"I guess... getting _intoxicated_ would be very much inappropriate for a Irken elite such as myself" he explained, for once speaking to her in a relaxed voice.

Then, he sharply turned his head at her:

" _Say_ , how much of this would it take for me to get… _drunk?"_ he spoke quietly, as if to hide his transgression.

"I don't know exactly, but judging from your body proportions, and considering this is your first drink ever… no more than two full glasses. Just to be safe" she replied. The glass was so big, he needed both of his tiny hands to hold it, after all.

He turned to his glass and started sipping at his straw. She had never seen anyone drinking wine with a straw; still, she was happy to see that he was actually enjoying it. That meant he had trusted her, if only one small bit, right?

_Maybe he'll be more open to talk to me now._

After taking a sip from her own glass, she asked him:

"So, you are an Irken, right? What is your home planet? What is it like? And how does your society work?"

The Irken stopped drinking and turned to her with a somewhat baffled look on his face:

"What? You've never heard of the mighty Irken race from the planet _Irk?_ I thought you said you have been around space for eight years"

"I've probably just never been to the part of it that you guys inhabit"

"The Irken Empire is _huge_ though" he retorted. "It spreads over multiple galaxies, and has even set itself on the way of a total universal conquest!"

"Oh, wow. So I guess your job as an Invader is very respected in your society"; he _did_ just mention to be part of the elite of his race.

The Irken grinned and puffed his chest pridefully. That was the first time some form of smile had appeared on his face, she noted.

"Very much so! The role of us Invaders is _crucial_ for the successful outcome of Operation Impending Doom II. And _I_ am the finest Invader there is!" he stated in a confident, pompous manner, and he took another sip of his wine.

"That _is_ rather impressive" she said sincere admiration. "But wait, why II?"

The Irken Invader let go of the straw in the now empty glass; he turned to her with a smile and said:

"Well, you know. _Two_ is better than one, right?"

“Haha!” she chuckled.

Just like she had imagined, his smile was very pretty. Maybe even _more_ than just pretty: handsome. Charming.

It really made her want to kiss his lips.

And _she_ was the one who had brought him out of his gloomy mood and drawn it out!

Not to mention, considering what he had said, he seemed to be a very important person in his society. That was _also_ pretty enticing. But if his status was of such height, why had he come to such a small, anonymous and decadent space bar? There was something he was not telling her, she felt. Maybe he had had some kind of accident that had left him stranded in that part of the universe with no better options at hand? Or may be the status he was speaking of only existed in the past? And how did Earth fit in the picture?

Whether he was lying or omitting something to her didn’t really matter: either way, he seemed to be a very _interesting_ guy. And besides, it's not like she of all people would or _could_ judge him for l ies or omi ssions about his background: it was something she did literally _all_ the time.

Nevertheless, while before she had had a feeling that approaching that small angry alien could potentially end very badly (if not _disastrously_ ), she now felt like the night could actually turn out very, very… _good_ , for the both of them.

"What planets have you conquered?" she asked him.

"Uh?"

"What planets have you conquered as an Invader?" she repeated.

As proud as he seemed to be an Invader, that question seemed to leave him disoriented: for a few seconds, he said nothing, pondering something to himself, his smile gone from his face.

 _Did I say something wrong?,_ she wondered worriedly.

But then, a devious grin crept on his face.

 _"Oh, are you sure you want to know?"_ he said, voice loaded with maliciousness.

Driver blinked in confusion. Before she could respond in any way, he continued:

"You see, _Earth-filth,_ it just so happens that during your eight-year-long absence your home planet, _Earth,_ was paid an unforeseen visit by an _un_ speakable, _un_ forgiving, _un_ stoppable foe come from the farthest depths of outer space... that would be me. _Invader ZiM_ " his grin deepened as he once again slowly stood up, his movements almost animal-like.

She tilted her eyebrows: so _that's_ how he knew about Earth: he’d been sent to conquer it.

Also, apparently his name was ‘Zim’.

“Your _puny brain_ could never _fathom_ the _pure horrors_ I inflicted upon your fellow dirty human beasts!”, ‘Invader Zim’ carried on his speech in a dramatically theatrical tone, as he got closer and closer to her; his arched fingers were touching the tip of the corresponding one on the other hand, like a comic book villain sitting on a chair in their secret lair.

“Tearing down their infrastructure, destructing their cities, setting fire to their homes, _contaminating_ _their_ _MEAT_ _supplies!,_ before I turned the disgusting, putrid ball of dirt they had the gall to call their ‘home planet’ into a handful of _tiny, minuscule specks of_ _DUST_ _!"_ he described sadistically, his right index finger and thumb gradually closing in until they clenched into a fist that he shook in front of her face.

Driver gave him an unimpressed look.

“Oh. Well, good for you” she told him.

His arrogant, menacing bravado was instantly replaced by deep and utter confusion.

His dramatic pose loosened, his right arm lowered. In complete disbelief, he inquired:

"W… why aren't you horrified?! I just told you I am the destroyer of your home planet! Is your _brain_ broken?!"

"Why do you think I left there in the first place?” she raised an eyebrow up, “I couldn't stand that ball of _venom and corruption_ and I'm happy it and its inhabitants are _gone."_

"You... you hate your own people and planet?" he asked.

The notion of being defiant, if not down-right _hostile_ to your own species and planet were pretty foreign to most aliens. She was used to the weird looks she conjured every time the subject surfaced. Nonchalantly, she explained, in a practical manner:

"You don't have to _like_ your people, _nor_ your planet if they aren't good for you. Or _to_ you".

Truth to be told, she had exaggerated her feelings towards Earth and humanity by a lot: why it's true that she felt much better far, far away from them, she didn’t want them to actually be destroyed. Point is, she was fairly certain that he was lying about the destruction of Earth: when he had first spoken to her, he had talked as though Earth was very much still existent -and probably humanity too-, but that for some strange reason he couldn’t… get to it? He _had_ asked her for the planet’s coordinates and how to get there. Maybe he didn’t know where it was? But then, how did he know about humans?

Despite that, though, she had to give him credit for his act: if his lie hadn't been obvious, it might have actually turned out quite _scary._

Zim collected again to his place on the couch, looking disappointed and confused at once at her reaction. It almost made her wish she’d faked fear and made him happy.

"So, your name is _Zim,_ uh?” she tried to change the subjected. “I like it. It has a nice ring to it. It rather suits you" she commented as she poured more wine in both of the glasses.

“Ha! Of course it suits me and it sounds nice!” he scoffed, voice full of conceit, “It was _made_ for _me_ ".

He took his glass, and drank a bit more of his wine.

"Doesn't it bother you that I massacred an entire planet of your kind?" he then asked her.

Had she manage to make him curious about her? _Good._ That’d been exactly her goal.

"I mean, I've killed people because of my job too. It would be pretty hypocritical of me to judge you for it" she explained.

Zim cocked his hairless brow at her.

"You? Killing people?"

"Yeah. What about it?"

"With your happy smile and sappy act? You look like you couldn’t lay a finger on the tiniest _lexx-fly!_ "

"To be fair, your big sweet eyes and adorable little antennae don’t look very intimidating, either _"_ she smirked.

 _"What-!!!"_ he scrambled for words, looking both insulted and surprised, "I AM NOT ADORABLE!" he yelled at her a little to loudly.

"Sure you aren't. _Cutey_ _"_ she winked down at her.

"I am not _cute_ either!" he narrowed his eyes at her, but his anger was only superficial. He seemed to have finally gotten comfortable with her. A little.

She didn’t reply; instead she smiled, and finished her glass of wine.

 _"'Cute'"_ Zim spat, as if he was saying a dirty word. "I know _for a fact_ that I’m creepy _and_ frightening. _Blind_ human… _eyes_ " and he finished his glass too with a series of angry sucks, until his straw could only draw up the air bubbles on its bottom.

As she was pouring her third glass, he handed his own empty one and shook it.

"You know, you should be careful not to drink too much” she advised him, “You-"

"Oh, _shush it_. ZiM feels perfectly fine. I'll _know_ when to stop" he cut her short.

She obediently filled his glass. Maybe deep down he _did_ want to get drunk. And who was her to stop him? It was fine as long as she got drunk too, right?

After he took a sip of the wine, he asked her:

"So what kind of job do you do?"

"Wellll” she hesitated, “I can't exactly _tell_ you..."

"But I told you mine!" he retorted.

"My position, I'm afraid, is much _trickier_ than yours. Hmm… Let’s just, say it’s a very _manual_ job"

Zim cocked an eyebrow up.

“Are you a repair-drone?”

“Well, no, not really. I meant that it involves a lot of… _handwork_. Lots of-” she moved her glass in circular motions, trying to think of terms that would make her job pass as _legal,_ if just _remotely._

“… _moving stuff_ from one place to the other and then _selling it._ Lots of… _papers_ involved. There’s a lot of _competition,_ so sometimes you have to get your hands _dirty,_ but… you know what? I end up _helping_ a lot of people too, so I think it balances itself out”.

“Aaah. I. Uhm… get it. I _think”_ Zim scratched his temple, visibly confused. “But, uh. Just to be sure. Can you give me an example?”

Driver pondered on that. Now that she thought about it, if she had never heard of this huge Irken Empire, he, too, probably had never heard of the planets she had been to. So maybe there would be no harm in sharing a few details about her most fun missions. Besides, he didn’t seem like the _talkative_ type, unless the subject of the conversation was himself.

“Well, alright. But don’t tell anyone, okay?”

Zim nodded in agreement.

And so, she told him of the time she and her work partner sneaked three big boxes of the much illegal _hempbiz leaves_ past the authorities in a space juncture; of the time they retrieved a rare lugolite for a rich client; and of that one time she had managed to fly a ship through a bunch of asteroids in order to lose an entire platoon of enemy ships.

As she spoke, Zim listened to her with an unexpectedly great deal of interest. She suspected the alcohol was playing a role in that: as he drank his wine, he eventually ditched the straw and started drinking directly from the glass to take bigger gulps of the beverage. His mood was noticeably changing: his occasional snorts turned to chuckles, and the chuckles turned to flat ou _t laughter,_ even when whatever he was laughing about wasn't objectively that funny at all.

She wasn't complaining in the slightest, though: his laughter sounded like a sweet _music_ to her ears. Each time it resounded she could feel her heart skip a beat and her cheeks flaring up; eager to hear more of that laughter, she overplayed, or added wacky details to her stories, and tried to regulate her voice and tone to accentuate the comedic effect. That seemed to work greatly on Zim, who was laughing himself out more and more: he looked like he hadn't laughed in quite a long time, and that that was a much needed fun break from his problems.

In the end, with a count of five glasses each, they finally drank up the whole bottle. By that point, she was feeling fairly air-headed; Zim too was holding his liquor surprisingly well despite his small size.

He stood up, waving the empty bottle high above himself, and shouted:

"Hey, bar-drone! Fetch us another _bubbly-fuzzy… wine-thingy bottle!"_

"Hey, hey, watch out, dude! It's my monies we are talking about" she playfully protested, but she honestly couldn’t care less about the money right now: she would pay _anything_ to see him smile and laugh even more.

"Oh come on, I'm sure sneaking _hempbiz-es_ through customs pays you a lot of money. Doesn't it?" he sneered at her.

Well, that mission _had_ paid quite a lot. Nothing to retort there.

As they drank the second bottle, Driver's stories became more and more incoherent: she would mix up the elements of two or more different stories, and pronouncing foreign, alien words or even just longer words _in general_ got harder and harder.

Zim laughed at her stories even louder than before, as if what she was saying was some kind of high comedy. Or made any sense at all.

There was no denying at this point that they were both helplessly drunk. Their laughter filled the usually quiet air of the small space bar and, unnoticed by them, the heads of the other clients and of the barman turned over to look at them with a mix of curiosity and confusion: it looked like a bright, warm, lively light had suddenly lighted up in a dark, cold empty alley for the first time in its history.

Despite her intoxication, Driver had not forgotten her purpose of getting closer to the small alien: while she was telling her adventures, her left arm had slowly crept behind Zim's back, and her body had slowly leaned towards him. Zim's back, too, was slightly resting on the arm behind him, although he probably just did that instinctively to keep himself from losing balance and falling lying on the couch.

She was now telling an episode that had happened during her latest mission: their cover had been blown, and an enemy had managed to climb on their ship minutes before they could take off.

"So like, this huge dude tackles me from behind, right?" she described, her right hand erratically waving as to draw the scene in the air.

"Yes"

"He tackles me from behind, okay?"

"Yes"

"This huge… dude tackles me from behind, you are following me, right?"

"… I think I am, yes"

"So I just… go absolutely _balls-listic_ , right, dude? I go, like…" she was really struggling to get that last word out, and when she finally managed to, it ended up sounding like something between a puff and a sob: _"N-Hoh"._

"HAHAHA! Yeah, you tell him, ape-monkey… pig!" Zim excitedly exclaimed.

"Little does he _know_ however" she continued in a lower, more serious voice," that I’m hiding a _secret weapon_ under my jacket".

Zim gasped in stupor.

"What secret weapon?" he asked her.

"A… triple electric ray-gun type 6Y6."

Zim looked at her in complete awe.

"I’ve ever only heard of such a weapon! What… what does it look like?"

"... alright, I'll show you. But you have to promise not to shout or yell or do anything like that, ok?"

Zim nodded obediently. She placed her left hand on his shoulder and slowly, gently pulled him towards her; her right hand drew the gun from its holster hidden under her jacket, but without moving it too much away from her body.

"Oooh" Zim sighed, eyes full of wonder. "How _neat!_ It’s even _cooler_ than I imagined!" he said as he poked at the weapon as if it was a fragile object he was being careful not to break.

She nodded in agreement. As she concealed her ray-gun again, she continued:

"So anyway. I fire the gun up, right? So, so like… _a plate_ from the ceiling falls onto his head with the loudest thud"

"Serves him right! How dare he… uhm… uh…"

“Tackle me from behind"

"Yes, that"

"So I take the chance to sneak out of his greasy arms, but. The guy now knows I have a ray-gun in my hands. So naturally he is freaking out, right? And he tries to run out of the control room, but… but… _hehehe_ _"_ a sudden giggling wouldn't let her complete the sentence.

Zim leaned towards her, his expression urging her to continue. After she collected her breath and pulled herself together as much as possible, she finally concluded:

 _"I shot him in the butt._ Two times. And the blast made him fall ahead and he… he rolled away like an armadillo in its shell, hahaha!" she broke into laughter.

"HAHAHA! Like an _herma-drill_ !! Stupid _rat!_ _Herma-drills don’t roll!!_ " Zim's laughter joined hers and they both laughed their guts out until tears started streaming from their eyes, their laughters encouraging each other. Zim hit the table with his fist to work off his laughing fit, and the empty bottles and glasses on it tinkled.

"Hahaha... hey... hey, we should get another bottle" he proposed.

"I’m sorry, but I’m running short on cash here. Besides, I don’t think that would be a very good idea _health-wise,_ you know?" she retorted..

"Hehe, yeah" he nodded in agreement, but she wasn’t sure he quite understood what she had just meant.

"You _also_ know what, _human?_ " Zim went on in a playful, falsely serious tone.

He poked at the gun through her clothes, and said:

"I’m pretty sure carrying a gun of that model around is a _grave_ violation of security norms in _most_ establishments… actually, I’m pretty sure no one in their right mind would ever think of granting a puny _hyuuuman_ a _ray-gun license._ Aren’t you afraid you might get in trouble?"

She just now noticed her hand was still resting on his shoulder. Before, he had seemed so reluctant to let her touch him, but now he didn't seem to mind the grip of her hand at all. _Well..._

"Well, you know" she replied matching his serious/playful tone, "I don’t see why they shouldn’t. I’m more handy with this gun than most alien people anyway"

"Hah, I don’t doubt it, _butt-shooter_ " he agreed. " Still, _I_ am the actual best there is when it comes to weapons. I bet I could beat you with my eyes closed and my antennae tied behind my head!"

"Ohhh. I would really like to see you _try"_ she smirked.

"Hehehe, I’m pretty sure you would _not_ want. To see that. You know, I could" his hand scratched-tickled at her belly, and she let out a giggle, "-splat out all of your organs all over the floor with no effort. If only I ever wanted to. At _any_ time" he shot her a devious smile, but there was no real threat to be heard in his voice.

She giggled again, and she lovingly smiled, looking at his eyes. They were so big and red and _pretty..._

"I don’t think I could ever to do that. Splatting your organs all over the floor, I mean" as she said that, she slowly lifted her right arm to caress his cheek. He giggled, her touch tickling him, but didn’t pull away from it this time.

"Has anyone ever told you that you're really... handsome?", she tried really hard not to say the more apt ‘cute’ and possibly tick him off.

He did seem to appreciate that compliment much more: he made a half smile and his cheeks actually flared up a little bit.

"Ha... no... I don't think so" he answered.

Driver slowly leaned towards him; Zim simply blinked at her, relaxed and smiling still; her lips slightly parted as she closed in, but he really didn’t seem to understand what she was trying to do until her lips actually touched his.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry to end this on such a cliff-hanger. I usually really hate slow-burns that never get to the good stuff but I also can't see a canon Zim trusting an unknown human easily. This chapter and the next one were supposed to be one but the text so far got so much longer than I expected. I hope you enjoyed this regardless and you can be patient 'till the next chapter.  
> Oh, by the way those hempbiz leaves are totally space weed. I am so sorry. I promise there won't be any actual stoners in this story.


	3. Make-Out Session of DOOM

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Driver hits first AND second base both on the first 'date', like the wish-fulfilling self-insert that she is. But will she go for a home run? The answer is no, actually, and we are all very sorry for that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is the part where the gross, good stuff actually starts I guess. uh. describing it felt very awkward.
> 
> EDIT (10/12/2020): fixed some parts of the dialogue and the *ahem* action. Driver is much more in character with her current self.

Driver gave Zim a soft, quick peck on the mouth.

Then, she placed a hand on his left cheek and went in for more: his lips parted under hers, and the first thing she noticed was that they weren't much different at all from the ones of a human, except for their exceptional thinness.

She gently kissed his lips, one, two, three times, but he wasn't really kissing her back, and his body felt really stiff under her hands.

She pulled away from him and saw a look of complete, utter _shock_ on his face: his eyes were wide open, his mouth agape, his antennae raised up straight on his head, and his whole body as rigid as a statue.

She had figured he must have been somewhat inexperienced with girls, but this reaction was just _way_ too excessive.

"Hah, uhm-" she chuckled nervously, “Is something wrong?" she asked him.

Zim didn't seem to hear her.

After a few seconds of simply _staring_ at her, he asked, in an incredulous tone:

“... what was that?”

Her heart sunk from both disappointment and shame: so she had... _misread the mood_ the whole time?

She pulled her hands away from him. With her usual eloquence mostly compromised by the alcohol, she simply replied, in a guilt-ridden voice:

“I-It was a _kiss”_

“... why... did you kiss me?” he _slowly, quietly_ asked.

“Because... I _like_ you” she murmured.

"... you... _like_ me?" he asked, staring straight into her eyes, like what she'd said couldn't possibly be true.

“I-I thought you liked me too...!" she helplessly stammered.

Zim didn't answer, but simply looked down, poking at his lips with his fingers, as if the sensation of the kiss was still lingering on them. His expression was not of shock alone now: he seemed to be thoughtful, and somewhat _conflicted_ about whatever he was feeling at the moment, his expression focused and frowning, not unlike what he had looked like when had thought about drinking alcohol for the first time.

His enigmatic expression further fueled her discomfort, so much that she was now _sweating_ from the nervousness: she could practically feel the _weight_ of the awkward air now lingering between them.

 _Great. It was all going so good, and you went and ruined the whole night for you both! You idiot!_ she thought to herself.

She turned away, unable to look at him: all she wanted right now was to escape that embarrassing atmosphere as quickly as possible.

“Look, I am very, very sorry I made you uncomfortable. I-It was a mistake. I will-” she sharply stood up from her seat, “I will just go pay and you won't have to see me again"

But just as she was about to head to the bar's check-out, something tightly grabbed her sleeve.

She turned to see Zim, pulling her by the arm: his eyes were once again focused on hers, and his expression had gotten very _serious._

She sat back down, and confusedly returned his gaze.

“Do it again" he commanded in a strict, authoritative voice.

 _“W... What?!"_ she exclaimed in disbelief; she wasn't sure she had heard him right.

 _“Do it again before I change my mind”_ he repeated in a growl.

His eyes narrowed, and he fastened his hand around her wrist.

She normally wouldn't have given in that easily on his request after such a weird first reaction, but the relief and excitement she felt won against her better judgment -and also, she wasn’t exactly able to _think_ straight yet.

A surge of energy rushed back into her so suddenly it made her gasp, and just like that her jovial smile was back on her face.

She adjusted her posture on the couch. She placed a hand under his chin and gently lead him back to her lips.

Trying not to be too quick or rough, she cupped his cheeks, using only her fingertips.

Zim, in turn, held onto her wrists; although his body wasn't as stiff as the first time, his grip was _strong,_ as if he was releasing tension by clenching his hands, and she could feel him _shiver_ through his palms. His lips, too, weren't really trying to respond to the kisses: for him it was probably more about reliving and _examining_ this new experience. She wasn't really complaining about it, but still... what could she do to make him feel more comfortable?

To test what he would do, she stopped kissing him, but kept her lips a few inches away from his.

Much to her please, his mouth tried to grab hers again: it was a very sloppy attempt, his mouth clumsily opening and closing on hers, but that didn't matter at all to her: the simple fact that Zim had tried to _kiss_ her meant pure _delight_ to her.

As she kissed him back, she was happy to find that this time he was actually _responding_ to her movements; she went at it slowly, so that his lips could more easily keep up with her pace.

Then, she moved her hands: she caressed his head, his antennae lowering backwards under her strokes, much like a cat's ears; unlike his skin, which was smooth as silk, his antennae were covered in a sort of small, short hairs.

She placed the other one on his nape, and gently scratched him; he shuddered under her touch.

Finally, she slid her tongue in his mouth, and a stronger, more violent shiver ran through his body, a faint _"Uuhh!"_ sound erupting from the bottom of his throat.

Her tongue moved to taste at his palate, and circled his own; she kept one hand on his head, while the other continued scratching his nape.

So far he had managed to synchronize his breath pretty well with the kisses, but now that ability was failing him: his fingers dug into her arms, and he gasped against her mouth.

Since he was having so much trouble breathing, and was apparently _panicking,_ she withdrew her tongue, gently bit his lip, and pulled away to look at his face.

He was breathless, almost _grasping out_ for air; truthfully, she was panting herself, although more out of _euphoria._ The dark on his cheeks had deepened, and he was sweating, like he had just stopped from a long, tiring run.

"Th... that was... _gross"_ he strained to push out of his trembling lips.

"Th-the _tongue thing,_ I mean..." he added in a whisper, like he'd suddenly realized that his words could have seemed offensive.

"Well, heh. People usually do that when they make out" she whispered back.

"... is that what we are doing? _Making out?"_ he asked.

"Yeah" Driver chuckled, nodding.

She moved her arms around him and pulled him towards her into a hug.

"I'm sorry I startled you. _If you want"_ she kissed his forehead _"I'll be"_ she kissed his 'nose' _"more gentle_ from now on" she planted a kiss on his closed mouth.

He squinted, his face frowning, and he weakly tried to push her away by her shoulders.

"This is so... _undignified_ " he murmured.

She blinked, but wouldn't let him get away from her hug.

"What is?" she asked.

"All of this! That we just did!" he explained, his voice full of frustration.

"Did you not like it?"

"I- it doesn't... I'm not... _supposed to_ ... I... _I shouldn't like gross!_ " he finally managed to stutter.

"This isn't… _right"_ he looked down, trying to avoid her gaze. Even from there, she could see the faintest glimmer in his eyes, like he was about to cry. "Nothing ever goes like I plan! It's all so _difficult,_ but... everyone is _counting_ on me!"

He sounded so _sheepish,_ and _worried,_ and _embarrassed,_ that it actually tugged at her _heartstrings;_ clearly, something very important and _grave_ was going on in his life that had made him so worried and sad. Maybe it was the very reason why he'd stumbled upon that gloomy old bar. And _her._

"Do you want me to stop?" she asked, her hand gently petting his head.

"I... I don't... _I don't know what to do"_ he stammered in a desperate, pleading tone, his big, sad eyes rising up to meet hers, as if asking for his help.

'I don't know what to do'. Oh boy, had she been there too...

Her hand moved to gently caress his cheek. This was probably the first time that evening, that he'd been so open to her about his feelings, and it had evidently been extremely difficult. What could she do to help him?

"Well... Why... don't you just... do whatever you feel like doing?" she suggested, carefully measuring her words.

She resumed scratching his nape in a soothing gesture.

Zim shuddered again, a low, pleasant hum escaping his mouth.

"You know, whatever it is that's worrying you, it isn't here right now. It _can't_ hurt you" she gently pulled him against her chest. His body instinctively tensed up at first, but he didn't fight her.

She petted the back of his head, and placed a kiss on its top.

 _"I'll make all the bad things go away"_ she sweetly whispered to him.

He sighed, his head rested in her chest, and he actually managed to relax.

After a while, since he had gone completely silent, she asked:

"Hey, are you sleeping?" he might as well be, as she couldn't really see his face from that angle.

"Heh. Irken soldiers don't _sleep"_ he snickered, even though his voice sounded distinctly sleepy.

He tilted his head up to her, with his eyes closed. He really looked like a cat sitting in her lap.

 _“You know”_ he suddenly opened his eyes; his voice now sounded more confident.

“I think you’re right, human. There's nothing worth worrying about. ZiM _should_ just do whatever he wants"

“Oooh. And what is it that Zim wants?” she purred.

“Well...” he placed his hands on her shoulders to lever himself and stood up on his knees. “I never thought I’d say that, but _sucking on someone’s face_ doesn't seem like a bad idea...” he purred back, a suave smirk on his face.

"Hahaha! Well, _I’m_ here, and you can suck on my face the whole night long” she said, cupping his cheeks once again and squeezing them.

They kissed again, pushing themselves against each other.

Driver slowly leaned back on the armrest of the couch, and Zim followed her, so that he now lay on her torso.

Now that he was all-around more relaxed, he also got _bolder,_ faster and more _passionate_ with his kisses: he was actually the first one to use his tongue, shoving it into her mouth, while keeping his hands on the base of her bare neck for balance.

She trembled, and felt a jolt of arousal coming from her lower half. He was still inexperienced, but man was he a _fast learner._

Her head spinning from the excitement, she moved her hands from the top of his shoulder to his chest, and then to his back: she tried shoving his metal backpack aside, so that she could feel it under her palms, but the damn thing seemed to be _glued_ to his clothes.

Her hands traveled lower until she found his butt and squeezed it; he jerked, letting out a surprised squeal.

“You really have the built of a soldier” she grinned into his neck.

“Eh, I-I... already knew that” he said with an embarrassed smile.

Giggling, she kissed his neck, her left hand slowly creeping down his butt between his legs, to finally reach-

As she was blinking, she saw _something_ in the corner in of her eye, and all of a sudden she remembered that _they were actually still in the bar:_ a couple of curious faces were staring at them from the tables placed no more than six or seven feet from them.

She immediately withdrew her hands, closed her mouth and stood up sitting upright, making Zim fall on his back on the couch.

“Hey! What are you doing? We aren’t done yet!” he protested in a whiny voice.

She looked around, bewildered: the sight of an Irken soldier and a _weird naked ape_ making out must have been particularly _bizarre_ and _fascinating_ , because all the clients currently present in the bar were _staring_ at them -and the barman too.

 _Somebody kill me,_ she lamented in her mind, face completely red.

She looked down and pressed her hands against her eyes, as if that was enough to hide herself from the other people in the room.

_How could I forget we were still here? I almost initiated sex in public!_

“Hey! Are you listening to me?” Zim angrily shouted and kicked her tight, still lying down.

“Sorry, I was initiating sex in public” she murmured absentmindedly.

“Uh? What?”

“I mean, uh- Aah...” she sighed and massaged her temples. She really shouldn’t have drunk that much. But at least, she could feel that the effect of the alcohol had worn out a bit. She spied Zim from behind her hands, and found that the same couldn't be said about him: he was still lying down, his eyes narrowed at her and his arms crossed, completely unaware of the eyes pointed at them.

“ _Hello?!”_ _he shouted again,_ “Have you gone _deaf? Come right here and suck on my-”_

Driver swiftly placed her hand on his mouth; he continued shouting under it, his screams muffled. He flailed his hands and legs around, but didn’t really make an effort to free himself. The alcohol wasn’t leaving him as fast as it had done with her, apparently.

She leaned closer to his face, slightly lifted her hand and tried saying:

“Why don’t we-”

 _“Get your filthy hand off my mouth!”_ he screamed at the top of his lungs.

She immediately put her hand back down, and cringed. Everyone in the room had probably heard that too.

“ _Please_ , can you not shout?” she begged him.

He grumbled something angrily. She wasn't sure it was a yes, but she tried lifting her hand nonetheless.

 _“Get back to your revolting activity, human”_ he hissed, "You were _just_ getting good at it!"

“I promise I will, Zim, but first” she quietly said, lifting him back up by his shoulders, “why don’t we go to a more _private_ place?”

He blinked at her, confused.

“Like where?”

“Like… my house” she proposed. _Please, say yes._

“Oh” he said, considering it. “Is it... very far?”

“We can just teleport right inside of it” she said, pointing at the teleporters on the other side of the room.

When she let go of his shoulders, he kind of swayed back and forth as if he was losing his balance. He lifted a hand up and placed it on his forehead.

Just as she was about to ask him if he was okay, he replied:

“Yes, that might be a good idea”.

Driver smiled. She searched in her pants’ pocket, drew out some money and placed it on the table to cover their bill.

“Good. Then let’s go” she grabbed his hand, and lead him away from the couch and towards the teleporters; he followed her, obediently and tamely, and above all _quietly._

As she passed through the tables, she didn't nod at the other clients like she usually did, but kept instead her eyes pointed at her own feet. In fact, she was really hoping she would never have to see them again.

In front of the teleporting cabin, she drew the key out of the pocket, but then stopped, dubious. Normally, she would travel to a couple of random locations rather than going straight home, in order to make her movements a bit harder to track; but going through multiple teleportations when she was still dizzy from the alcohol would have surely made her _barf._

She decided for this one time to just take the risk and teleport directly at home; both her key _and_ home's teleporter had been rigged to be untraceable anyway.

She stepped in the teleporter and stuck the key in the lock; when she turned it, the screen above turned on to display a blank space and a number pad.

“Come on in” she invited Zim on, squeezing his hand.

Zim tentatively stepped into the cabin. It wasn’t really suited for more than one person, but luckily his tiny size allowed him to stand just before her, as long as he kept his back pressed tight against her legs.

She dialed in the code corresponding to her home’s teleporter, and the teleportation started.

A swirl of colors appeared before her eyes, and she felt as though the whole air pressure on her body was lifted out. She squeezed his hand tightly.

 _Please, don't make me vomit,_ she prayed.

The teleportation lasted for five seconds tops; then, she felt the air pressure coming back on her, the swirl of colors faded, and her kitchen appeared before them. Not that they could actually see it, since it was completely hidden in the pitch black of the night.

They stepped out of the cabin, still hand in hand.

Being teleported just _once_ didn’t turn out to be so bad, even though she was still a bit intoxicated.

“Here we are. Just let me get the light...” she searched the light switch on the wall to her right, feeling with her hand.

When she finally found and pressed it, the room was finally illuminated.

"Please, make yourself at home. You can sit at the dinner table" she said, letting go of his hand.

She threw the key on the cupboard nearby, turned off the teleporting cabin, and for good measure unplugged the main power cable, as she was used to do whenever she used it: she didn't want any _stranger_ stepping out of it to _arrest_ her -or _worse._

In the meantime, Zim quietly sat on one of the chairs: his chin stood barely above the table's surface.

“Heh. I gotta say, this is a big improvement. That miserable bar was so disgustingly _filthy”_ _he chuckled._

"Well, thanks to you I won't even be _able_ to go to that _filthy bar_ ever again. But like you said, maybe that's not such a big loss", _especially considering what I got in return,_ she mentally added.

"Say, do you want to drink anything?"

His eyes beamed, and he started swinging his legs hanging from the chair excitedly.

“Do you have more wine?” he asked.

“I’m afraid I don’t have any drinking wine at home” she apologized, returning his smile. "Also, I don't think you should drink any more alcohol tonight. Would you like some fruit juice, instead?” she proposed.

“Oooh, I’d love some!” he said, his leg still happily kicking under the table.

_Oh, my heart._

She went to fridge, and poured two glasses of orange juice.

She sat at the table with him and offered him his glass.

“Uhmmm, I’ve been drinking the whole night but I feel so _thirsty_ ” he said, and he drank the whole glass with one series of consecutive gulps.

Driver followed him; she was pretty thirsty too.

“That’s a side effect of alcohol!” she explained, “You know, for being your first time drinking it, you are actually holding it pretty well!”

Zim put down his now empty glass. He smacked his lips with satisfaction.

“That was some real good juice!” he complimented her, “I hadn’t had one like that since I was on Earth...”

“I’m glad you like it. You know, those oranges come from my trees”.

Zim frowned at her, apparently confused.

“You are… _a plant-grow_ _ing_ _drone,_ too?”

“Haha. I’m an all-types-of-things sort of drone” she answered. She raised her glass back up, and gulped down all the remaining juice.

Zim tapped his finger on the table in an impatient gesture.

"So, can we start making out again?" he asked.

“Whoa. You like going straight to the point, don't you?" she grinned.

She reached for his hand, and squeezed it. She leaned towards him, getting real close to his face. Zim started puckering up his lips, but instead of kissing him, she just whispered:

“Would you mind moving upstairs? My _bed_ is much cozier than the chairs”.

“Can’t we just do it _here?”_ he whined, and he stretched out his neck and to try and kiss her; she turned her face to the side, and his kiss landed on her cheek.

“You know what, don’t worry- you won’t even have to raise a finger for this” she said, as stood up, walked around the table, and scooped him up in her arms.

“ _Wait, what-”_ he gasped in surprise as she lifted him up from his seat.

When she got a good grip on him, her arms forming a cradle under his back, she kissed him deeply; he relaxed into her kiss, and kissed her back.

She then carried him bridal style to the stairs, careful not to bump into the furniture. When she started climbing the stairs, she broke the kiss, much to Zim's displeasure:

“Oh, come on, come back here!” he whined, and he picked her cheek with his finger.

“What, you want me to trip on the stairs?” she asked, although not kissing him for even _one second_ was killing her too.

His finger moved from her cheek to her mouth, seemingly trying to open it and pull it towards him.

“Filthy… stupid… human mouth” he murmured.

“Hehe _h_ _ey_ , cut that out!” she chuckled.

She tried turning her head to the side, but his finger followed her lips. When she playfully nibbled on it, he withdrew it with a sharp jerk.

“Hey, no biting! What are you, a cannibal?!” he asked, outraged.

“Does it really count if we aren’t the same species?” she snickered.

Finally, _oh so finally_ , she reached the bedroom on the second floor.

She stepped in the dark room, gently placed him on the bed, and turned a lamp on.

“You know, this bed isn’t _that_ cozier than the chairs” he stated. "We came all the way here for _nothing"._

Driver slowly climbed on the bed on all fours.

“Are you always like that?” she asked.

“Like what?”

“Overly _grumpy_ and _critical”_

“I’m just stating a fact!”

“You know what’s also a fact?” she said, and she poked her finger against his chest. “With that _rude_ attitude of yours, there’s no way I would have ever _made out_ with you, if I didn’t happen to find it oddly charming!”

“If you like my rudeness, what are you complaining for?” he grinned.

 _"I'm not complaining at all..."_ she whispered as she kissed his lower lip.

A hand slowly crept to rest on his thigh.

She had planned on slowly making her way up with it, but when he eagerly grabbed her head and his tongue broke inside her mouth, a surge of primal excitement overcame her.

_Oh, I can't take this anymore-_

She quickly moved away from his mouth and kissed his neck; at the same time, her hand cupped his crotch.

“Eee!” Zim let out a surprised shriek, and fell on his back under her weight.

Driver kissed, and sucked, and nibbled on his neck's skin, while her hand moved between his legs in circular motions -oh, she had wanted to do that _so bad_ the whole evening!

"Ah! H-hey, uh-hnngh!" he let out a series of chocked moans, trying to suffocate his whimpers as his body spasmed and trembled.

This in turn only excited her even more: she searched under his tunic for the edge of his pants; when she found it, she started pulling them down, until they were folded at the level of his knees, and then-

 _"What are you doing?"_ Zim asked.

Driver instantly stopped moving.

She raised her head from his neck and stared down at him.

 _"_ _U-_ _Uh?"_ she asked, confused.

But _he_ was wearing an expression even more confused than hers.

"Why are you undressing me?" he asked again.

… _what?_

For a few seconds, she stood completely still and silent, just staring at him. When she tried to speak, her voice came out in a clumsy babble:

"I, uh... you know, heh... C-come on, you know why!" she chuckled.

But Zim simply stared at her, looking both dumbfounded _and_ sleepy.

Clearly, he _didn’t_ know why.

What was she supposed to do now? _Explain_ to him what she was about to do? And hope that he would agree, _now?!_

Suddenly, it occurred to her that she was still holding his pants down, exposing his lower half.

She slowly, awkwardly put his pants back up, and what was worse, the whole time he just stared at her in a confused, perplexed expression.

"I was uh... _putting you to bed"_ she finally muttered.

"... putting me to bed?" he repeated.

"Y-yeah, uhm... you know" she grabbed the blanket and sheets on her bed and lay them over him.

"The best way to work off alcohol is to get a good sleep!" she awkwardly smiled at him.

His eyes fluttered, slowly closing.

"Perhaps... that's not a bad idea" he murmured.

He turned to his side and collected his arms and legs to his chest.

"I wanted to... kiss a bit more..." he quietly mumbled.

After a short while, his breath relaxed in a slow, quiet rhythm, and he fell asleep.

He'd probably felt sleepy for a while now, and getting comfortable in a bed had made him realize how tired he actually was.

Driver watched him fade into sleep without saying a word.

Then, suddenly, the plates on his metal backpack turned on with an intermittent yellow light.

Alarmed, she got closer to examine him: his breathing seemed regular and relaxed. She tried shaking him, but he remained fast asleep. That backpack was probably more than a simple bag. Did it do that every time he went to sleep?

_What now? What am I supposed to do?!_

She had just made an unknown alien go drunk, invited him over to her house _specifically_ to have sex with him, and now it turned out he had never reciprocated that sentiment _at all._

 _And_ he was currently sleeping in her bed.

Maybe it wasn't exactly the case, but she really _did_ feel like she had lured someone vulnerable into something they never wanted in the first place, under false pretenses.

 _What do I do when he wakes up?_ _Oh,_ she didn't even want to _think_ about that!

With no idea on how to proceed, she noticed that she herself felt very tired: it was pretty late in the night. What could she do now that he was sleeping anyway?

Sleeping in her bed beside him was out of the question, so she just grabbed her pyjamas and a blanket from a nearby drawer, closed the bedroom's door behind her and headed to the sofa in the living room downstairs.

As she was getting undressed, she noticed that she still had the ray gun hidden under her clothes.

 _Thank_ _G_ _od it didn't go off when I pushed against him,_ she thought.

She placed her clothes on the table at the center of the room, then tucked herself under the blanket on the sofa.

She had no idea whatsoever what would happen the next morning: she prayed something would come up to her after this night's sleep.

Driver closed her eyes in the dark room and despite her worries, she easily dozed off into sleep.


	4. Cranky Morning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Zim realizes how much alcohol can alter your perception, and he does so the very, very hard way, when the reality of the previous night hits him as sober.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is mostly from Zim's perspective. It was surprisingly hard, writing a character who's constantly in denial of reality.  
> This is not a 'happy' chapter at all but I hope you enjoy it.
> 
> EDIT (12/02/2020): fixed parts of the dialogue and prose. Zim is ONE BIT a little more logical in his anger. But not too much, because he's Zim after all.

Driver woke up to a soft purring.

_ Prrrrrrrrrrr,  _ the low vibrating sound reverberated in her ears.

She slowly opened her eyes to find  _ Cat, _ snuggling on her stomach.

"Aw, hello, baby" she sleepily mumbled as she petted his back.

Cat let out a soft _ ‘Mwrap’,  _ his face turning to the side to peek at her with one of his green eyes.

At first, she was disoriented, seeing the ceiling of the living room above her instead of the one of the bedroom.

Then, the happenings of the previous night all came back to her mind like a crashing wave.

_ Oh, right. I'm sleeping on the sofa because there's an alien in my bed.  _

She sat up, and her head span: she was probably having a bit of a hangover.

She massaged her closed eyes, then slowly looked around her: golden morning sunshine filtered through the gaps in the closed blinds; the pendulum clock on the other side of the room read the time 'nine and a half'.

She gently nudged Cat off her with a hand (much to his displease), and stood up.

Pushing through her light-headedness, she opened up all the blinds on the first floor: it was a beautiful, sunny morning, although the light was a bit too strong for her sensitive eyes.

_ I wonder if the little guy is still upstairs, sleeping?  _

She climbed the stairs as quietly as possible, then peeked through the half-open door of her bedroom: sure enough,  _ Zim _ was still sleeping there, in the exact same pose she had left him, curled up on his right side, tucked under the blankets. And his metal backpack was still intermittently blinking with a yellow light.

_ Does that light mean he's sleeping, or is he like... alcohol-poisoned?  _ she wondered. If he really  _ was _ sick, bringing him to a hospital would have been a major pain.

Suddenly, it occurred to her that she hadn't really washed the night before. Ew.

She decided that getting the morning started would be the best strategy either way: if he was fine, then he would wake up to her being clean and with a nice breakfast ready; if h _ e wasn't,  _ well, a few more minutes wouldn't do much of a difference. And if he didn't wake up in half an hour, she would go and leave him in front of a hospital; and she needed to be clean for that too, as previous experiences had taught her.

After going to the bathroom, washing and changing her clothes, she headed to the kitchen: Cat was waiting for her at its door, and when he saw her he shouted a loud, irritated  _ ‘Meeeeeooooowwwww’,  _ impatient eyes staring up at her.

"Yeah, yeah. I heard you. I'll fix your breakfast right away" she groaned.

Breakfast, breakfast. She would have to cook for _ three _ that day. Actually, she was pretty sure she had never offered a breakfast to someone that wasn’t  _ Cat _ before.

She filled Cat's bowl, then fetched the ingredients she needed from the cupboards.  _ I hope he likes pancakes,  _ she thought.

As she stirred the mixture of flour, milk and eggs, she wondered what reaction he would have to her once he woke up ( _ if  _ he woke up). From how the night had played out, it seemed like he liked her back, but he had also gotten  _ very  _ drunk at one point. Not to mention that horribly awkward final moment on the bed. What if he... regretted all of it?

_ Please, please, make it so that he wakes up in good spirits, with no hangover, with no memory of the 'bed thing', and that he doesn't resent me in any way,  _ she prayed.

  
  


Meanwhile upstairs, the exact word-for-word opposite of what she was hoping for was happening: as Zim woke up, the intermittent light in his PAK turned off, and the  _ very first thing  _ he noticed was that he had a  _ monstrously painful  _ headache.

He groaned in pain, pressed on his head with his hands and curled up more on himself.

He then noticed that he was lying on a very soft surface, and that something made of  _ cloth _ was covering him-  _ blankets. _

_ What happened to me? Where am I?  _ he dizzily thought.

He slowly opened his eyes, and the light, albeit dim, felt like it was  _ piercing  _ through them. He didn't recognize the room he was in, but from the furniture and the wallpaper he could tell it was a  _ human  _ room. And he was on a  _ bed. _ A  _ human  _ bed. In fact, everything around him had a distinct  _ smell of human.  _

For a moment, he confusedly wondered how he'd come back to Earth -or if maybe he had never left it in the first place.

But then, he remembered about  _ her: _ the girl from the  _ bar. _ The human woman who had approached him in that  _ horrible, shady _ space bar.

He tried standing up on the bed with one quick movement, but the jolt caused his head to spin so hard he just fell back on his hands. It occurred to him at that point that  _ he himself  _ smelled like human.

_ Now _ he remembered: that woman had talked him into drinking that suspiciously delicious bubbly  _ whi-ne,  _ and suddenly everything around him had become  _ fainter, _ and that woman too had become strangely  _ attractive _ , and then she... he...  _ they...  _

A storm of _shame, disgust,_ and _pure_ _horror_ overcame him: the night before those _actions_ had seemed so distant and insignificant and _irrelevant,_ but now he could remember every single little touch they'd shared _so well,_ it almost felt like her hands and body and lips and _tongue_ were still all over him.

And that  _ smell _ that clung to him was proof that all of this had in fact happened.

He emitted a series whimpering sounds, as he involuntarily hyperventilated and gagged at the same time. He frantically touched all over his body, as if that way he could erase the memories of the human's touch.

How could he have fallen for such a blatant trap by  _ the enemy? _ Happily accepting that beverage  _ and _ her  _ advances,  _ and even following her to her  _ lair! _ Allowing her to  _ touch  _ him in such  _ intimate _ places! And worst of it all, he distinctly remembered...  _ having enjoyed it. A lot. _

"No!! That wasn't ZiM!! That poison she made me drink made me go mad!! That's all!!" he squawked (oh, his throat felt so  _ dry _ ): the proof was that he felt so disgusted at the thought now that he was sober, right?

Then, he remembered how he'd gotten on that bed in the first place: he had  _ passed out _ , right after she... had attempted to  _ undress him.  _

In a fit of panic, his hands scrambled to lift his tunic and shirt: he felt his exposed belly with his hands and inspected it carefully, his tired eyes uncomfortably hazing as they tried to focus: no signs of surgical operations or vivisection; he seemed to still have all the parts of his body  _ and  _ his uniform. His PAK, too, seemed fully operational, and nothing had been stolen from it.

After going through the trouble of luring and drugging him, why would she just leave him passed out on her bed unsupervised? Had she overestimated the duration of that  _ alco-hol  _ 's effects?

"Your  _ miscalculation _ will be the end of you,  _ foolish, arrogant human _ " he growled. "Ohhh, my head feels  _ terrible..." _

He released his mechanical legs out of his PAK and used them to climb off the bed; at first, it was hard coordinating them and keeping himself in balance: it felt like he was swimming through an invisible, but  _ thick... mist... thing  _ . But after a few steps, he got the hang of it and managed to exit the bedroom.

He stuck his head out of the open door and looked left and right: the upper floor appeared empty, but he could hear noises coming from below.

His brain still felt dizzy, but his mind was as sharp as ever, and it swiftly delineated a counterattack: he would sneak up on her, immobilize her and then ask what her  _ actual  _ motive for approaching him was.  _ Genius!  _ But much easier  _ thought  _ than done, because balancing the tips of his mechanical legs on the small steps of the stairs without tripping and ungracefully rolling down was proving extremely difficult: his slow, erratic movements made him look like a sick, elderly, over-sized, long-legged spider.

As he climbed down the sounds became clearer: tableware and pots clinking against each other, and the sizzle some something frying.

_ Is she... cooking?  _ he thought in disbelief and indignation: not only had that human left him unrestrained and un-surveiled, but she had even gone on with her  _ morning routine.  _ The nerve! To underestimate Zim to that point! Oh, but he would  _ show her  _ how mistaken she was...

He finally reached the lower floor, which was much brighter: the light bothered his eyes, making his head hurt even harder. How could he ever think that drinking that  _ poison  _ would be a good idea?!

He followed the noises to a room to his right: the kitchen where they had teleported the night before. He peeked from behind the door:  _ she _ was at the opposite side of the room, cooking something in a pan, her back turned to him. Unarmed  _ and  _ unsuspecting.  _ Perfect.  _

He furtively entered the room, moving in the ample space between the table and the cupboards on the left; the room seemed to have been arranged _ just so  _ that he could do a sneak attack on her: now he would  _ jump _ on her, and tie her arms behind her back!

But just as he was about to carry out his plan, a mysterious, vague  _ shape _ of white and grey sneaked between his PAK legs at light speed: surprised and alarmed, Zim jerked backwards with a shriek, two of the legs tripped over each other, and he fell on his back; his head hit the marble floor so hard his teeth chattered together -and if it didn't hurt or spin before,  _ oh Irk  _ did it  _ now. _

He heard the human's voice, now aware of his presence:

"Oh, my God! Are you hurt?"

He felt a hand touching his shoulder, but couldn't see much besides indefinite blobs of dim shadows: his eyes were full with tears.

Still, his panic gave him enough energy to wave his arms, slap her hand away, and shout:

"NO! STAY BACK! DON'T COME ANY CLOSER!"

He tried lifting himself up with his PAK legs, but they kept slipping on the smooth marble floor; in fact, they were pretty much  _ hindering _ his movements as he lay on his back: his  _ actual _ limbs proved much more useful in backtracking away from the human. He crawled backwards using his arms, retracted two of the metal legs, and drew out the laser guns on the remaining ones, aiming them at a vague point in front of him where he assumed the human was.

That thankfully worked, because when he managed to sit up and look in front of him, the woman had taken a few steps back and raised her hands at face level, her expression confused and scared.

"Hey, what's  _ wrong _ with you?!" she shouted back. "Put away those guns! Why-"

"SHUT UP!" he angrily interrupted her, above all because her voice was  _ grating _ on his ears -his poor, poor brain hurt  _ so much.  _

Nevertheless, he managed to lift himself up, glaring at her all the while.

The human's pose was still defensive, but her expression turned calmer.

_ "What are you doing?" _ she asked in a slow, composed voice.

Zim gritted his teeth. Under any other circumstances, he would have found that courage admirable.

"Silence, human!  _ I  _ ask the questions here!" he hissed at her. "Why did you bring me here?!" he inquired, "What were you planning to do to me?!"

She frowned, appearing even more confused than before. Still, she calmly explained:

"Don't you remember? We agreed to come to my house to have some privacy while we-"

"ARGH! DON'T REMIND ME OF THAT!" he stopped her again, wincing in disgust.

"But you asked-"

"BESIDES!" he pointed an accusatory finger at her "I was talking about your  _ real  _ intentions with me! Why did you bring me to your  _ base?! _ What were you planning on doing to me after  _ kidnapping  _ me?!"

The human took a deep breath, and proceeded to explain in that same calm voice:

_ "Well, _ first of all I want to make clear that this is not  _ a base,  _ but  _ my house.  _ But more importantly, there wasn't any kidnapping at all. For one, if that was the case, it would not make any sense, to just leave you on my bed without trying anything on you while you were fast asleep. And for two, you  _ agreed  _ to come here. How is that a kidnapping? As for my motive, I thought I had been clear enough with you last night... but you just told me not to remind you of that".

She'd spoken in such a soft, calm,  _ logical _ tone, that Zim was almost hypnotized by it; but he quickly snapped himself out of it: he would _ not  _ fall for this woman's tricks again.

"Then why does my head hurt so much?! You  _ poisoned  _ that  _ wh-ine _ , didn't you?! How dare you poison ZiM's brain!!"

"You are having a hangover. It happens after you drink too much. Which you  _ did,  _ because you gulped down as much  _ wine  _ as I did, only  _ I  _ am more than thrice your weight. And you did so against my advice, I might add" she explained, now a hint of condescension in her voice. Oh, how  _ conceited!  _ But... he couldn't really find anything to logically retort to her, as he  _ did _ remember things going that way too. And he  _ had _ heard about hangovers and their effects on the brain, though he never imagined them to be this bad...

Still, he went on with his accusation:

"Then why did I... do...  _ that...  _ arrrgh!" he tried not to spell it out loud, but he couldn't an alternative way to express the concept; and so, he pushed out those dreaded words:  _ "Why did the whi-ne make me want to KISS you?!"  _

The human's expression fell; she seemed much more shocked and upset now than when he'd pointed his guns at her, as if those words had slapped her across the face.

"So you didn't... enjoy that... at all?" she asked.

"Of course not!" he lied, though more exactly he  _ regretted  _ having enjoyed it.

"You don't like me... at all?"

"Why would I ever like a  _ filthy human?!" _ he shouted, "Your  _ entire species  _ is my s _ worn enemy!  _ My  _ sole purpose  _ right now is to  _ destroy  _ all of you! The ONLY reason I didn't  _ maim you on sight  _ last night, is because I made the mistake of trusting your  _ courte-sy,  _ since you claimed to hate the Earth too! A mistake I  _ won't _ commit twice!"

The human lowered her barred gaze to the ground, as if she couldn't stand looking him in the eye.

"I guess... alcohol can make you do things you would never otherwise do. I... only talked to you because I  _ liked you. _ I'm...  _ sorry" _ her voice sounded so sad and remorseful, he was  _ almost, half- _ convinced of her regret.

Zim furrowed his brows. Everything she had said perfectly checked out. So… that was it? This was all a misunderstanding? This was even more unbearable than the  _ kidnapping theory, _ because it meant that the blame was (mostly) on him!... maybe he should just gun her down anyway...

"Do you want some pancakes?" the human suddenly asked.

Zim blinked in surprise.

_“ Pancakes?”_

"Yes. I was cooking breakfast for the both of us" she pointed at the table, which he noticed had been set for two.

"Ha! As if I would ever eat your food! Do you seriously think I would fall for the same trick again?! Those  _ things _ will probably be poisoned too!" he scoffed.

"It’s fair if you think so. And it’s okay if you want nothing do to with me. You can go and teleport away" she pointed at the room with the teleporting cabin on her left, "but eating fatty food would help you a lot with your hangover".

Zim furrowed his brows, conflicted. On one hand, he didn’t feel like consuming any _man-made_ food at all after the previous night’s _ordeal_. On the other hand, it really did seem like she had never meant any harm to him; she had just taken a... _like_ to him... in her own _disgusting_ human way... so that food was _probably_ safe. And on that same hand, he was really, _really hungry:_ _h_ e hadn’t eaten much in the past few days. And this was a _free meal_. _And_ those pancakes looked and smelled _delicious._ _And_ on top of all of that, he _had_ heard something about fatty foods helping with the collateral effects of alcohol.

He felt  his spooch’s digestive cavity grumbling, and his mouth salivating.  All in all, the pros hand was much fuller than the cons hand.

"Arrgggh,  _alright,_ fine!  _But_ I’m keeping one laser gun out! If you make  _ one  _ suspicious movement, if those pancakes taste  _ any bit  _ funny, I’m going to shoot you down!" he tried to convey th o se conditions with as much hostility in his voice as possible.

"We've got a deal, sir" the human murmured, a forced, fake little smile on her face. "Please, take a seat. It won’t take long" and with that, she turned back to cooking.

Zim sat at the table in front of one of the empty plates, his head was still _pulsing_ with pain, yet he struggled to keep his eyes and a laser gun pointed straight at the human’s back.

After a while, she turned back with a plate full of pancakes stacked on each other.

"Here we are" she meekly announced as she placed it in the middle of the table.

Zim picked up his fork, put a pancake in his plate, and suspiciously inspected it. He waited for the human take a bite herself, just in case she’d somehow managed to elude his surveillance and poisoned them; when she did so, with the same calm and composed attitude, he cut a small bit of his pancake and put it on his tongue.

No weird taste, no weird reaction. They did seem safe to eat.

He took a bigger piece in his mouth, and he was surprised to find that those pancakes _were_ _delicious._ Scratch that, they were no doubt the _best_ pancakes he’d ever had: both the taste and the texture felt so _rich,_ and so unlike any other food he’d ever tasted. It took all his strength not to throw himself forward to devour the rest in one bite. He munched on it as slow as possible, but still finished it in record time. He took another one, then a third, then a fourth.

"Do you like them?" the human asked him.

_"This is the most revolting food I’ve ever tasted._ I feel like each bite will be the one that will finally make me throw  it all up. If you like your table being puke-less,  _ don’t break my concentration"  _ Zim growled at her, his mouth full of the stuff.

She seemed to take the hint that he had no intention of sharing more words than necessary with her, because the meal continued in an awkward, _absolute_ silence.

He tried taking a glance at the human: she was eating her food slowly, head low, eyes pointed at her plate; he quickly turned his eyes away when he noticed that she didn’t look as hideous as he’d hoped for. _Besides,_ looking at her would only summon more memories of the night before.

That alcohol was probably still circulating inside his veins.

_ Don't think about it!  _ he  shook his head,  berat ing himself,  _ I need to forget all of that and never think about it again! Especially while I'm eating!  _

When he finished his meal, he turned to her again:

"This  _ hang-over  _ is not gone yet"  he pouted.

"You need to wait for the food to get circling" she patiently explained. "Why don’t you try and get some fresh air outside? It will help".

Zim begrudgingly put the laser gun back in his PAK; he jumped off the chair with a grumble and headed to the main entrance. That was probably a good idea, all in all: after all, he wanted to stay away from her as much as possible.

He opened the door and stepped outside,  and w hat he saw outside left him  _ paralyzed. _

Blue sky.

Green plants.

Birds chirping.

_... wait… is this..._

"EARTH!" he shouted, "WE ARE ON EARTH!!! But _how?! How's this possible?!"_ he ran down the porch's steps, as if what lay before him was just a hologram that would dissolve once he stepped in it; but the grass and the air and the bugs and the birds remained firm in their places even with him running through the open field in front of the house.

He ran back inside, and met the human just beyond the front door; she had probably come to check on why he was screaming.

 _"Human!! Explain yourself!! How are we on Earth?!"_ he flailed his hands at her.

"Uh... we aren't on Earth" she confusedly retorted.

_ "Don't you dare lie to me!!  _ Do you really think I would not recognize the very planet I was tasked with destroying?!"

"But..."

_ "Explain!"  _

"Uh..."

"EXPLAIN IT TO ME NOW!!!" he shouted, waving his furious fists at her.

For a moment, she remained quiet.  _ Seriously,  _ how many times would he have to ask her before she just  _ answered?  _ As he was about to repeat himself, the woman finally spoke in her usual, quiet and slow manner:

"This is just a planet I'm renting"

"... Eh?"

"I had it terraformed to look like Earth"

"What nonsense are you speaking about?!"

"Look there" she said, pointing at something up behind him. "That's the planet of a neighbor of mine who is also planet-renting. We aren't even in the same galaxy as the Earth’s".

He turned around and saw a small, unknown purple planet floating far away in the blue sky.

"This planet is very tiny too" she continued, "If you walked in a straight line, you'd reach the back of my house in about twenty minutes", she pointed at the horizon.

He followed her finger and focused his eyes on the distance: his artificially-enhanced eyes confirmed that, indeed, the planet's curve started less than a mile from there.

_ Uh. This is definitely not Earth.  _

_ "Where  _ are we then?" he asked her.

"I can't tell you".

"Why not?"

"It has to do with my job" she cut short.

He was about to protest, but she continued:

"Do you need anything else?"

Zim scowled at her. He turned around, and sat on one of the steps.

 _"Leave me alone"_ he ordered.

Behind him, the human walked back and closed the house’s door.

He crossed his arms on his knees. This was the second time in the arc of one day that he'd believed to have discovered a way back to Earth, only to be sorely disappointed.

He massaged his temples; his head still span and hurt, though not as much as before.

_ I'll never drink one drop that al _ _ c _ _ ohol poison again,  _ he swore to himself.

He really wanted to empty his mind, but it kept turning back to that previous, strange night. One question  continued to  press him:  _ Why?! Why is this  _ _ HAPPENING _ _ to me?!  _

But now that he could calmly,  _ soberly  _ think about it, he was finally able to piece it all together and explain why he had acted so uncharacteristically  _ insane.  _

First of all, his time on Earth in a way had  _ spoiled  _ him: he'd grown so used to the company of Gir, and Minimoose, and yes, maybe even of the  _ humans  _ there, that being all alone for all those weeks had made him...  _crave_ that company back. And what's more... well... it wasn't like he doubted that his brilliant brain would eventually find a solution to the  _ Earth situation  _ like it had on previous occasions, but it was definitely taking its time with this one, and that had made him  _ anxious.  _

And so, seeing an Earthling had made him feel like he was back on that planet. Her attentions had mended his loneliness. And most embarrassing thing of all, her  _ kisses,  _ combined with the alcohol, had made him forget about his mission.  _ And he had felt like he'd been relieved of a burden.  _

He angrily shook his head.

_Nonsense!_ A true Invader would never feel that way about their own mission!  _ Those thoughts weren't his!  _ He was simply at the wrong place at the wrong time with the wrong person! He was feeling down. The  _alcohol._ All of these factors  had  combined to produce the dreadful result that was the most horrible night of his life yet. An  _unfortunate coincidence._ Extraordinary perhaps, but still a  _ coincidence.  _ Just the  U niverse, deciding to add just one more disgrace on top of the other  _ dozens  _ it'd sent  his way in the last few months.

Maybe instead of ruling the Universe he should just straight up _destroy_ it.

But that would have to wait. First, he needed to concentrate back on his  _ current  _ mission: destroying the Earth!... after having  _ found  _ it, of course.

Once his mind was cleared, he would use that teleporter, and he would never have to see that human again! Soon, in a few hours, he could forget about this mistake and be back on track!

… only... _how exactly?_ His ship was short on fuel and ammunition, and he didn't have that many monies left. He'd tried saving on food supplies, but being hungry every day was starting to get on his nerves.

Asking the Tallest was out of the question:  h e couldn't let them now he was  _ stranded in space,  _ or they would most certainly revoke his  _ Invader status!  _ Or maybe even  _worse…_

Zim took a deep breath. 

_ Try to relax. You'll figure it out. ZiM always figures it out. The alcohol in my veins is probably blocking the most ingenious ideas  _ _ out! _

He closed his eyes and held still. Waiting.

Overtime, he felt the headache and mind-dizziness slowly fade away.

At one point though, his antennae picked up the movement of _ something  _ _ to _ his left.

He swiftly turned around to see an  _ Earth cat _ sitting next to him, looking at him with intense curiosity. That white and grey fur reminded him of something...

_"You!"_ Zim shouted in an accusatory tone, " Y ou must be the beast who made me  _ trip!  _ You are the  _ guard cat  _ of that woman!"

The cat blinked one of its green eyes at him. Those slit-shaped pupils focused on him _cre_ _pt_ the heck out of him.

"I want nothing to do with your master, much less with  _ you!  _ Go away,  _ disgusting furry beast!"  _

He waved his hand at it to shoo it away, but the cat sat still in its place. Instead, it rolled on its side, exposing its stomach to him.

"... what? _What do you want?"_ he asked. Did it expect him to... _pet it?_

Zim narrowed his eyes, furious.

"Oooh, _I see!_ You're making fun of me because of what happened with your ape master, aren't you??" he accused it. He stomped down his foot, and shouted: "BE GONE WITH YOU BEFORE I UNLEASH MY REVENGE UPON-"

"Are you having a fight with _the cat?"_ a voice asked behind him.

He turned to look at the human, who had just now stepped outside on the porch; she’d put on a different set of clothes -the same ones from the night before _(do NOT think about it)-_ , and was looking at him perplexed.

_"It started it!"_ he  whined, pointing at the animal " W hy don't you teach your beast to properly behave itself before clearly  _ superior beings?!"  _

"Awww, he meant no harm when he passed through your legs" she said, lowering herself to pet the cat's side. "He just wanted to cuddle. He probably likes you".

The cat started purring audibly to its master’s touch.

_ Just like you 'like' me?  _ he thought, repulsed. Earthlings had such  _unpleasant,_ if not downright  _ dangerous  _ ways to express their affection. For a second, he wondered if he had too looked like that cat as she-

_"More importantly, human!"_ he interrupted his own thoughts, and  stood up. "I am ready to leave your miserable planet and forget all about this awful, horrible experience. And especially  _ about you". _

"Are you sure?" she asked. "Wouldn't you like to use the restroom first to refresh yourself? Or perhaps I could offer you something else to-"

_"ZiM needs no 'restrooms' of any kind"_ he bluntly stated. "And the only offer I'm willing to accept from you right now is a teleportation back to my ship".

"...alright, then" she finally agreed, "Come in".

She lead him back into the house; picked a jacket from the coat rack next to the main door, and went into the kitchen, where she finally opened the door to the teleporter.

She plugged the power cable back in and switched it on.

Zim stepped into the cabin, legs parted and arms crossed on his chest. But the teleportation didn't start.

_ "Well?!"  _ he  impatiently asked the human.

"You're gonna have to make room for me" she said as she tried to put a foot behind him.

"WHAT?!  _ Why?"  _ he protested,  pushing her foot back  with a hand.

"Who's gonna bring me back my key after you have teleported?" she pointed out.

Zim let out a low, frustrated growl. She really was going to make everything more annoying than it already had to be, wasn't she?

The stepped into the cabin behind him, ~~like they had done the night before,~~ and inserted the key in the lock.

"Where to?" she asked.

"To the miserable bar from tonight,  _ obviously"  _ he replied, " T hat's where I parked my ship".

"Oh. Right" she murmured.

The human typed in the code for the bar's location. He heard her inhaling, as if she was trying to say something. But ultimately, she remained silent.

The human turned the key, and the teleportation started.


	5. Guns Go Pew Pew

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Driver and Zim run into an old acquaintance after they make their way back into the gloomy bar.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lots of anger and negative thoughts over all in this chapter. Hope you like action.
> 
> EDIT (01/02/2021): fixed the prose, which was particularly terrible in this chapter.

Driver typed in the code for the bar's location.

She tried thinking of something,  _ anything _ that could somehow repair their short-lived ‘relationship’ (if it could even be called  _ that), _ but nothing would come to mind; at this point, it was probably irreparable.

She  _ had _ considered the possibility that he would react badly to her, but  _ being held at gunpoint?  _ For a moment, she had been certain that he would actually shoot her.

_ Why didn't I check his backpack for weapons while he was still sleeping? Why didn't I keep my gun near me?  _

She realized now, that bringing an unknown alien soldier to her house with the intention of hooking up with him was the stupidest, most reckless idea she'd ever had in the first place.

She felt sorry that they would now part on such bad terms without ever seeing each other again, but at the end of the day, she had never hoped for this...  _ one night stand  _ to last for more than one night, right? Was it even a one night stand? It was more like a... one night...  _ making-out-and-getting-drunk thing.  _

_ This is just depressing.  _

Ultimately, she said nothing: she just turned the key, and the teleportation started. Once again, she took a direct route to the bar, against her usual habit of making multiple stops before the correct destination, as she didn't want to upset Zim any further.

As the twirls of bright colors engulfed them, Zim spoke up with that same spiteful, hostile voice:

"One last thing. The moment we step out of the teleporter, we act like we have  _ never  _ met each other before  _.  _ And if word gets about all this,  _ you'll regret it",  _ he threatened her without even looking back at her face.

His words stung her like needles in her heart. Why was he being so antagonistic towards her? Did she really disgust him to that point? Was the chemistry from the night before really all fake?

_ Oh, why am I taking this all so personally? I'll never see him again anyway,  _ she tried to comfort herself, though… that didn't really make her feel much better.

The teleportation ended and the bar appeared before them. She didn't really want to be there again after all the clients and even the  _ owner _ had seen them making out so  _ openly,  _ at least not that soon. Now she would have to pick another bar to go to for a few weeks at least before she got comfortable enough to come there again; which was a shame, because she had grown quite attached to the place.

Zim readily jumped out of the cabin and headed straight towards the exit, ignoring her presence just like he’d shortly before stared.  _ How cold.  _

She too stepped out of the cabin and gladly,  _ gratefully  _ noticed that there were no clients in the room: that wasn't uncommon, though, and plus, they had probably reopened just a few hours earlier.

She turned her head to her left, to the counter, and noticed that the barman, too, was missing. The only sign of life in the bar was the quiet, gloomy music coming from the speakers on its ceiling.

Now  _ that  _ was a bit weird: the blob barman, as far as she knew, always stood there even when he had nothing to actually do, polishing the glasses and the bottles as if it was his own way of fidgeting. This was...  _ also _ good, she supposed. Was the bar even open? But the teleporters and the music were on, so it  _ had _ to be. Maybe he was just at the bathroom? … did blobs even need bathrooms?

She turned to the teleporter, which should have recharged by now, to go back home and forget all about that morning, maybe by extensively cuddling with Cat and eating a box of chocolates, but the moment she did so she heard the sound of electric tension going out resounding in the bar.

The  _ music _ stopped playing.

The _ teleporters' lights  _ went out.

The  _ scans _ went out.

She heard Zim, who had almost reached the automatic exit door, complain:

"Oh, _ great. The power went out! Lousy hovel!  _ Hey! If you don't open this door in ONE second, I'll  _ laser it down!"  _

_ Driver’s heart thudded.  _

_ This is bad, actually. Really bad.  _

"Zim, be quiet!" she ran up to him, urging him to hush down.

"ARGH! Didn't I tell you to pretend not to know me?!” Zim barked at her, “And go tell your  _ blob friend  _ to let me out of this  _ rattrap  _ , or I'll-"

_ "Don't you see?" _ she interrupted him speaking under her breath, signing him with her finger to make silence.  _ "Someone cut the power as soon as we came in!" _

_ "HEH? WHAT?! WHY WOULD SOMEONE DO THAT?!? _ " he shouted five times as loud as before.

Driver flinched at the volume of his voice. Was he doing this on purpose?

_ "Will you just be q-"  _

_"Well, well,_ _well"_ a low, menacing voice rumbled in the empty local.

She and Zim turned to see that the barman was slowly sliding on his blob-like body towards them, probably having entered from the door behind the counter.

And he was holding  _ a shotgun  _ in his tentacles.

"Look who had the  _ gall  _ to show their  _ ugly face  _ again" he growled, a furious expression on his face.

_ Oh uh.  _

"Hah! Oh, good!" Zim exclaimed, relieved. "He's only talking to  _ you!  _ Well then, before you shoot her for whatever reason you have, can you just quickly get that door open for me?"

_ "Actually, I was talking to the both of you _ " the barman raised his voice, sharply pointing the shotgun up at them. " A nd you  _ both  _ better remain still".

"Whoah, whoah!" Driver put her hands up in front of her in a defensive stance, "What are you doing?!"

_ Really? This again? In the same morning? _

Zim, who looked even more shocked than her, angrily shook his fists at him, and shouted:

_ "Hey!  _ How dare you point that gun at me?! What did I even do to you?!"

_ "What did you even do to me?"  _ the barman repeated.

Zim was about to say something back, but then he turned to  _ her,  _ and asked:

"Alright, let's cut the crap,  _ where are my monies?!" _

Driver raised an eyebrow.

"Your... monies?"

_ "Yes,  _ in case you forgot,  _ miss,  _ you two  _ quaffed down _ two bottles of my  _ finest  _ space wine last night, and then left without paying!"

_ "Yes I did!"  _ she protested "I  _ distinctly  _ remember placing the money on the table! It was even more than the actual bill!"

The blob narrowed his eyes.

"Is this some kind of joke on whatever dumpster of a planet you come from? Because  _ here,  _ it's not funny at all".

Driver shook her head, confused.

_ "I don't understand" _ she said.

_ "You call these 'monies'?!" _ one of his tentacles dug inside of his gelatinous body and drew out a handful of pieces of paper, which he then threw at her feet.

Driver looked at them with crescent terror: a blank piece of ripped paper, a coupon for a milkshake, and a used train ticket. She recognized them: they were all junk she had forgotten to take out of her pockets the day before. But  _ no  _ monies among them.

_ Oops.  _

"I am so, so,  _ so sorry!  _ I-I was drunk a-and I mistook them for monies! So..." she quickly searched her pockets, but they were all empty. She had forgotten to bring along her wallet.

She desperately turned to Zim.

_ "Zim,  _ would you please be so kind to pay for me? I-"

_ "No way!" _ Zim shouted, crossing his arm on his chest, "I'm not paying for something I didn't even want in the first place! And  _ you  _ said you would pay it all up!"

She gritted her teeth, trying to remain as calm as possible.

"Zim,  _ please,  _ I'll repay you as soon as I get home-"

"Hah! I see now! This is just another way to lure me into your lair again, isn't it?!" he stubbornly shook an accusatory finger up at her.

She clenched her fists. If a shotgun hadn't been pointed at her, she would have jumped and  _ strangled _ him right where he stood.

"Tsk!" the barman eyed him with a disgusted expression. "You would even sell out your  _ girlfriend _ to get out of this. You Irkens truly are the scummiest beings in the universe"

"SHE IS NOT MY GIRLFRIEND!" Zim roared, outraged. "Look, _bar drone,_ this human _agreed_ to pay all of that poison-wine! It's her who owes you the monies! I don't even know her! I don't even know _her name!_ I have nothing to with her! _SHE - IS_ _NOT – MY - GIRLFRIEND!_ " he repeated, hitting the floor with his foot for emphasis.

_ "Nothing to do with her?!" _ the barman retorted, looking bewildered.

"You think I didn't  _ see you  _ last night?! You two  _ perverts  _ turned my humble bar into a damn  _ strip club _ ! She was  _ fondling you, _ and YOU stuck your tongue so far down her throat, I thought you were trying to plant an EGG in her! It even scared some clients off!! And I don't even wanna think about what you did once you teleported out!!!"

Both she and Zim flinched more and more at every accusation as if they were bullets fired from his  _ shotgun _ rather than his mouth. She was about to say that actually nothing much had happened afterwards, but he was probably not in the mood for a joke right now...

_ "Shut up! Stop talking! T-That's not at all what happened! You saw wrong!" _ Zim shouted in a desperate,  _ guilty _ voice.

_ "Look"  _ Driver stepped in, "If you just turn the teleporters back on, I'll bring you your money in less than a minute, and-"

"Oh, yes!  _ Yes,  _ about  _ that..." _ he said, as if he'd just remembered something important, his lips suddenly curling in a  _ snickering grin.  _ "You see, after you left with  _ my  _ monies, I scanned the database of the teleporters to trace back your  _ IP address". _

Driver froze in place.

_ Oh, no.  _

"And guess  _ what?" _ he spoke with a  increasingly enthusiastic  _ malice. _

_ Oh, goddammit, why is this happening-  _

"All I found under _ your  _ teleportation IP was a bunch of  _ corrupted data. _ And not just for  _ last night _ , no, the same type of bug shows up multiple times on all of my teleporters: every - single - time  _ you  _ used them"

"Ahaha, yes, well, you see" she weakly smiled, "I have  _ no idea  _ why that is. My key is probably broken. It's quite old. I should really get it replaced-"

_ "SO"  _ he spoke over her, " _ on top  _ of robbery  _ and _ public indecency, you are  _ also  _ guilty of teleporting IP falsification. Which is an offense even worse than the other two".

Her fake smile disappeared, replaced by a desperate, pleading expression.

_ "Mister..." _ she begged, her lips trembling and her voice cracking.

"Now let me ask  _ one _ question I think you know exactly the answer to..." he mercilessly carried on: he was clearly having a lot of  _ fun  _ tearing her down, like a detective who had just cracked the case of the century.

"... if I searched through the Intergalactic Bounty Archives for the description of a tall, naked ape with long hair on their head, how high would the reward for their capture be?" he concluded his monologue on an extra arrogant note.

Driver swallowed, hard.  _ Boom.  _ Gotta give it to him: he'd really gotten her.

Zim looked up at her, his antennae perking up and his mouth agape in an astonished expression:

"WHAAAAAAAAA? YOU are a  _ wanted criminal?!" _ he exclaimed.

_ Thank you for spelling it out loud for us, Zim.  _

"Mister,  _ please" _ she begged the blob, "I've been a regular here for more than a year! I've never caused you any trouble before, I... I-I like your bar" she spoke with genuine sadness and regret.

"HAH! Oh yeah?  _ You like my bar?!  _ So  _ that's  _ why you robbed me?!" the blob furiously scoffed. "You thought I would just let it slide, right? Thought I was a pushover, only because I acted  _ nice  _ to you? Maybe you felt  _ entitled  _ to my monies, that's how you  _ criminal scum  _ think, right?! Of course someone like  _ you  _ would  _ fornicate  _ with an IRKEN! I bet you two are just made for each other!  _ Well,  _ guess what? My kindness was all  _ fake!  _ Pure  _ business! I never liked you,  _ you  _ revolting, shameless, good-for-nothing, overgrown ape.  _ And now you and your little  _ bug boyfriend  _ are gonna be dumped right where you bel-"

With one swift movement, Driver drew her ray gun from the holster under her jacket, took the safety off and shot the barman right in the middle of his body: a blue light zapped out of the gun and when it hit the barman's gelatinous body, it  _ exploded _ in a  _ rain _ of blue jelly that splatted all over the tables, chairs, and floor in the nearby vicinity; his shotgun fell on the ground with a loud thud.

One of his gelatinous parts landed at Zim's feet, who jumped shouting a surprised:

_ "HEY! What the heck!!!" _

Driver turned to him:

_ "Where is your ship?" _ she asked.

"Uh-what?!" he asked her back, still evidently dazed from what had just happened.

Driver scowled at him, and he fearfully recoiled. Good: hopefully that was enough for him to understand that she was officially, one hundred percent  _ done  _ playing nice to him  _ or  _ any other arrogant alien for that day.

"Your _ ship"  _ she impatiently repeated, with a hard edge in her voice now. "We need to leave,  _ right now,  _ where is your _ ship?!" _ she took a few steps towards him, when suddenly she noticed that the exploded parts of the barman were  _ moving. _

In fact one of them, the one which still had his eyes planted in the middle, was  _ looking  _ at her. A mouth formed under the eyes and shouted, livid:

"You won't get away with this,  _ you monkey!  _ And that cockroach too! You won't make out of here alive! I ALREADY CALLED THEM ANYWAY! YOU ARE DONE FOR!"

"What?! What cockroach?! Where?!" Zim turned his head around all panicked.

_ Great. _ So he had called the authorities on them. Probably as soon as they'd stepped out of the teleporter. That meant they didn't have much time...  
  
Driver darted towards Zim; she grabbed him by his collar, and started dragging him behind her.

_ "AGH! HEY! What are you doing?!" _ he protested, his boots hitting the floor as he flailed his legs around.

Driver paid his protests no mind: she quickly walked past all the tables in the bar, down to the automatic door that was its only exit, and only then did she turn Zim around and let him plop on his butt.

_ "Open it"  _ she ordered him, pointing at the closed. door.

"How am I supposed to do that?!" Zim retorted, looking like a mix of indignant and scared.

"Don't you have anything inside your backpack that could open it?!"

_ "What backpack? I- _ Oh! Ohohoh, yeah, right..." he drew his mechanical legs out of his backpack and turned the laser guns on their tips to the metal door.

Suddenly, Driver heard a sound coming from behind them; she turned and found with horror that the smaller parts of the barman were now converging to reform the owner's body: his eyes were on the top, angrily pointed at her, and the shotgun was back in his tentacles.

_ Oh, right. Blobs can do that... _

_ "That's it! I'm killing you! I don't care if the reward is lower that way!" _ he roared.

She tried shooting him, but aimed too low: the lower half of his body exploded, but the tentacles with the shotgun and his face remained intact, shaking but still balancing themselves on the collapsing base.

"AND STOP SHOOTING ME!!" he shouted.

That at least gave her time to grab the nearest metal table and flip it over, using it as a shield for her and Zim.

_ "Duck!" _ she yelled as she crouched behind the table, though Zim didn't really need to make himself smaller to be covered by it.

A loud bang exploded in the room and a ball of red energy hit the table, forming a bump right in front of her face. Then the shotgun recharged with a whistle.

She turned to check on Zim: his lasers were slowly cutting-burning the metal door in the shape of a rectangle. He was halfway through, but at that pace...

"Can't you do it faster?!" she urged him.

"Don't rush me! I'm almost done! This stupid door is thick!" he shouted back, "Why don't you take care of that crazy  _ filth?"  _

The shotgun fired again, and the whole area around the bump deformed even more, like it was  _ tinfoil. _ The table probably wouldn't be able to take another shot.

_ Looks like I'll have to take care of that crazy filth after all. _

As the shotgun was still recharging, Driver peeked over the table and fired her ray gun, not at the bartender, but at the  _ bottles _ stacked on the shelves in the wall behind him: on the impact with the blue ray, several of them exploded, the burning liquid flowing down on the counter like a fire waterfall.

The barman turned around, horrified.

"NO! NO! What have you done?!  _ My bar!" _

"Done!" she heard Zim say at the same time: the rectangular piece of the door that he had cut fell forward, on the outside of the building.

Zim ran out; she followed him on all fours, squeezing through the hole that was a perfect fit for him, but less than half her own size.

Finally, they had made it out of the space bar, running on the flat surface of the floating asteroid it was placed on. There was only one spaceship parked in the small parking lot in front of the establishment:  _ Zim's ship, _ a small purple cruiser.

They had just covered half the distance between the bar and the ship, when a loud  _ BOOM _ went off in the establishment; and although it couldn't be seen because of the lack of windows, the explosion was strong enough to send a few parts of the roof flying out of the asteroid's atmosphere, with black smoke leaking out of the roof: the fire had probably spread because of the alcohol and made a gas or fuel tank explode.

Both she and Zim let out a breath of relief watching the building and its owner, supposedly, burn.

"Well done. He must be  _ super _ dead by now!" Zim commented.

In response, his shotgun fired through the hole in the door, the energy ball landing on the ground between them; they both jumped, alarmed and surprised.

The bartender was very much still alive, and was compressing his body through the hole, looking as livid as ever:

"YOU'RE DEAD! YOU ARE BOTH DEAD! I'LL KILL YOU IF IT'S THE LAST THING I DO!!!" he yelled so hard his voice cracked.

She and Zim ran again for the cruiser as the shotgun recharged.

Zim remote-opened the windshield of the ship, presumably, as far as she could see from that angle, by pressing a button embedded in his glove, and jumped into it; she slipped right after him, and curled on the seat behind him. The glass closed, and the ship activated.

_ "I did it! I defeated him!"  _ Zim triumphantly boasted, "ZiM is back on his ship! Alive!!! And now-BWAH!" he jumped when he saw her.

_ "What are YOU doing on my ship?!" _

Driver almost burst out laughing from the absurdity of his reaction: how he hadn't immediately noticed that they were inside the same ship together, crammed as they were, was completely beside her.

"I-"

"GET OFF MY SHIP THIS INSTANT!" he shouted right into her ear.

A shot from the shotgun hit the right side of Zim's ship, making it shake.

_ "Like hell I'm going outside!"  _ she shouted back.

The AI of the ship joined in too, speaking in a robotic male voice:

_ "Attention. Unknown, non-Irken life form detected aboard." _

"See? Not even the ship wants you inside of it! Now  _ get out,  _ human! Or-"

Driver pressed her gun right into his right cheek.

"Either we take off _ right now  _ or we  _ both  _ die" she growled.

Zim froze up instantly, a terrified look on his face. Then the shotgun fired a second time, and this time the windshield cracked.

"Uh-ah-nghhh, don't mind the human!!  _ Just get me out of here!!"  _ he ordered the ship as he frantically pushed the buttons on the control panel.

The ship took flight, but an emergency alarm began beeping:

_ "Warning" _ the AI spoke,  _ "Engine damaged. Emergency landing advised". _

_ "Just GO!"  _ Zim insisted, angrily pulling on a lever.

The ship raised and breached the artificial atmosphere of the asteroid. Driver looked down, to the barman: he was shaking his tentacle at them, shouting something. He tried firing his shotgun at them, but they were too far and the energy bullet dissipated into space.

Now flames were visibly poking out of the roof of the bar.

She turned to Zim again, keeping her gun inches from his face.

"Fly us as far away from here as possible, as quickly as possible" she said.

"How dare you give orders to ME?!" he growled at her.

"I mean, were you going to do anything else?"

 _"How dare you point a gun at me, in my own ship!!"_ he talked over her "Arrrrghh, look at the _damage!_ This whole mess is all _your fault!_ _Just wait until I board off!"_ he threatened her.

"Yeah, yeah. You can disembowel me once we land, tough guy, ok?  _ Far from here _ . Now shut up and  _ drive"  _ she said as she reclined back on the seat and massaged her closed eyes. Two crazy aliens had come so close to killing her in the span of three hours.  _ On a free day.  _ This was really too much, even for her.

Zim angrily mumbled something under his breath, but obeyed her and kept flying.

After a while of flying through space, they spotted a tiny planetoid vaguely shaped like a sphere.

The ship's AI, who had become more and more insistent in its warnings, voiced its final warning:

_ "Emergency Shutdown imminent. Critical Engine Damage. Emergency Landing advised. Dangerous levels of Disregard for Emergency Warnings detected" _

"Alright, let's land there" she pointed at the planetoid.

Zim headed towards it, draining the ship's last bits of strength; finally, the ship ungraciously plopped on the planetoid's surface.

"Is there an atmosphere?" she asked.

Zim pressed some buttons on the screen, where texts in an unknown language were displayed. Probably, _ Irk's  _ language.

_ "Faint, _ but yes, there is" he answered.

"Is it breathable?"

"So it seems"

"How  _ convenient" _

_ "Very". _

They both expressed themselves in a huffy,  _ fake-calm _ way.

Zim turned off the ship, opened the windshield and jumped out to check the damage.

Driver finally managed to stretch out from her uncomfortable, curled-forward position, and she too stepped out of the cruiser.

Zim lamented at the state of his ship: black smoke rose from its engine; two black spots were present on its right side, where the barman had shot it; some kind of liquid was leaking from behind: it could clearly not take flight again in that state.

_ What now?  _ she wondered, but already she knew she only had  _ one _ option.

She didn't really want to do it, but she had to call  _ her boss  _ for help: he was the only person who could help her out of this mess.

_ But _ said mess could very well get her fired. They thankfully hadn't met any  _ police  _ (or worse, any  _ bounty hunters) _ so far, but the barman  _ had  _ called someone on her: her cover could be compromised right now.  _ Her boss'  _ cover could be compromised right now. She had never been so reckless before, not even when she was less  _ experienced.  _

She took her communicator out of a pocket in her jacket. She had to thank Zim for threatening her that morning, she guessed: if he hadn't made her wary of him, she might have never brought along the communicator OR the gun with her for what was supposed to be a quick trip to the bar.

Speaking of an angry, threatening Zim, he was currently yelling something at her; but she paid him no mind: she wanted to send the SOS message as soon as possible.

She forced herself to type:  _ "I'm stranded on an asteroid. Attaching the coordinates. There's an Irken soldier with me. He has a small, broken down ship. Please send help" _ , and then sent it to him, holding her breath from the anxiety.

"HEY! I AM SPEAKING TO YOU!!" Zim got closer to her and shouted even louder.

"I'm sorry, did you say something?" she turned to him.

_ "Yes I did!  _ What are we supposed to do now?! My ship is  _ ruined!  _ We are stranded in the middle of nowhere!" he panicked, his hands flailing angrily around him.

"Calm down" she replied, "I've already asked someone for help. Have patience"

"Help? To whom?!"

"My boss. He's gonna pick up both us  _ and  _ your ship. Have patience" she repeated.

"Oh yeah? And when?!"

Well, he still hadn't responded so she didn't actually know if he was even  _ able _ to come and pick them up.

But just as she was thinking that, she received a reply from him:

_ "Two hours".  _

_ Oh, thank God!  _ she thought. But maybe, he was only heading down there to fire her. And then leave her there so that she couldn't compromise their position even more...

"Good timing. He just told me. He's coming in two hours" she smiled, trying to keep up a positive spirit.

"Nnngh! This would have  _ never  _ happened if you weren't there! You  _ involved  _ me in your criminal....  _ stuff!  _ And now my ship is ruined!" Zim yelled frustrated.

"Hey, how could I know he'd react that way? I thought we were on good terms..." and she really thought that: she had been genuinely surprised, and frankly  _ hurt _ by the barman turning on her.

"Hmpf! Humans and their  _ naivete! _ You really think you could trust a random alien found in a shady  _ shack  _ like that?" Zim conceitedly scoffed.

"Oh? You mean like _ you?"  _ she retorted, raising an eyebrow.

"No, more like  _ I  _ did with  _ you!"  _ Zim growled.

Driver scowled at him. She took a deep breath.

The  _ nerve  _ of this little ingrate. How could she have ever wanted to have  _ sex _ with him?

She raised her gun and drew a couple circles in the air with it, as a sort of not-so-veiled threat.

"Look, can you please cut me some slack? I'm tired of you crazy aliens assassinating my character like that"

_ "Stop pointing that thing at me!"  _ he hissed; nevertheless, that seemed to work, because the conversation died there.

  
  


The two following hours passed so slowly, they seemed  _ interminable. _

At first, Driver tried taking a walk around the planetoid; but it was just a barren clump of dirt. She did note that it was comparable in size to her own rented planet: maybe with enough terraformation it could too become inhabitable. But as it was it was just a boring empty rock. Even the part of space visible from there was uninteresting. So after a while, she just came back to the cruiser, sat down, and absentmindedly played the minigames she had installed on the communicator.

For his part, Zim tried to repair the cruiser with the instruments present in his backpack for the first hour or so; but several parts needed a straight up replacement, and in the end, he just gave up and sat at the cruiser's seat, stewing in his anger and resentment, occasionally eyeing her with a menacing look.

She made it clear that she wasn't in the mood for any further discussions by keeping her gun near her, in a position where he could see it.

In the end though Zim, half out of anger half out of boredom, bitterly spat at her:

"I hope for you you have the monies to repair my ship".

She lifted her eyes up from the game she was playing.

_ "Excuse me?" _

"The damage it sustained is your fault and  _ you  _ are gonna pay for it!" he whined.

_ "Your cruiser would have never been shot if you had just taken off without trying to get me killed"  _ she angrily hissed.

"It is my ship! I decide who can or can't get on it!"

"Yeah, well then you should  _ pay  _ for it too!"

"That disgusting blob would have never shot it in the first place if it wasn't for you!" he pointed a finger at her.

"And  _ he  _ only found me out because I met  _ you  _ in the first place!" she retorted

_ "You  _ are the one who approached me and lured me to her  _ cave-house!"  _

_ "Lure?  _ Didn't see you complain last night" she scoffed.

"You  _ drugged me!"  _ Zim accused her, standing up on the seat.

"You drugged  _ yourself!"  _ she corrected him, and then raised her voice's pitch to mockingly imitate him: "'Oh, just one more glass! I'll know when to stop!' ALSO, I remember  _ you  _ begging  _ me  _ to make out, not the other way around!"

Zim cringed at that statement, and clenched his fists.

"That's not true! I never did that! I-It's all that poison's fault!!!" he denied.

"Oh, is it though? They  _ do  _ say wine brings out one's true self..." she put down the communicator, arched her back, stretched out her crossed legs and overlapped them in a sensual pose.

"'Human, please,  _ do suck on my face!  _ Oh yes, let's go to your house! Oh yes, let's go  _ to your bed!"  _ she mocked him again.

_ "NO!!! YOU ARE A LIAR, A FILTHY LIAR!!!"  _ he drew his mechanical legs out of his backpack.

Driver readily grabbed and raised her gun at the same time.

They both stayed completely still  _ and  _ quiet for a few moments, each with their weapon pointed at the other, their angry eyes fixed together.

_ "Put - those lasers -down" _ she commanded.

"You take back what you just said!" he hissed.

_ "You  _ take back what you said before that!"

"I won't! Oh, I KNEW I should have never trusted you!  _ Liar!  _ All that 'I would never splat your organs on the floor' stuff was a  _ lie!  _ "

"Let's just say I'm always open for new ideas. And also, what a nerve. As if  _ you  _ never lied to me"

"What are you talking about?!"

"Th-" but before she could continue, she heard the noise of a familiar vehicle coming from her right.

Zim too caught that and looked to his left: a ship was coming their way.

The Boss' ship.

It flew into the asteroid's thin atmosphere, then stopped, hovering on the ground a few feet from them.

The door next to the driver seat opened up and the boss peeked out of the vehicle:

"Good afternoon to you. Now I don't mean to be inappropriate, but I must inquire: are you -the Irken mister over there- by any chance trying to murder my associate via laser guns?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I promise Zim and the mc will be again on good terms again. Soonish. In chapter seven, probably.


	6. The Monstrous Boss

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Driver's scary Boss has finally come to the rescue, and he looks like he has an interesting proposal for Zim...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is a bit oc-heavy and Zim and the MC don't interact much, so if you're here for that you can skip it to be honest. There's not much important happening here anyway. You can read the end notes to find out what happens.
> 
> EDIT (01/05/2021): improved some of the prose and dialogue; retconned the Boss' eyes to be yellow instead of blue.

Despite the possibility of a firing being highly likely, Driver felt incredibly relieved to see her boss there.

Instead of answering his question, Zim turned to her:

“What?! Another human?! Hey, you never mentioned there was another human with you!” he shouted.

Oh, right. She had stopped seeing her boss, _Mister Krassmann,_ as a human being since such a long time ago, she hadn’t thought of warning Zim about his appearance, because right now, he perfectly resembled a _real,_ _regular_ middle-aged man, with white hair and a big curled mustache; the oddest detail about him was his whole _aesthetic:_ he wore a very elegant, but _dated_ (to say the least) gray suit, a matching gray bowler hat, and a pair of golden glasses which all looked like they’d come straight from the early 20th century (in fact, they probably _did_ _)_ _._ His spaceship matched the style too, being modeled after a car from that era, only of course, it didn’t have wheels, but _space propellers,_ and it was made of a durable metal steel.

Really, the only giveaway that he wasn’t human, and not just a space-traveler from an old sci-fi book was the light ocher color of his eyes, provided that anyone noticed them (or even  _knew_ that human eyes normally couldn’t be of that hue, since Earthlings were practically unknown in the wide universe)

Ignoring Zim’s inquiring, Driver stood up from the ground, and answered Mister Krassmann’s question instead:

“Oh, don’t worry about that. We were both just about to lower our weapons and settle our differences through _civil dialogue”_ she said as she lowered her own gun and put it back into its holster.

“Ah, that’s a relief. Resorting to violence is always such an _unpleasant, sad_ deed” he smiled, speaking in a relieved voice; he then pressed down on a pedal and the space car slowly and gracefully lowered to land on the ground.

“ _Hey-”_ Zim tried saying something, but she interrupted him:

“Thank you _so much,_ Mister Krassmann, for coming to help us! I don’t know what we would have done without you! Zim, why don’t you put those guns back in and thank Mister Krassmann for coming all the way over here to save us?” she asked him through gritted teeth.

“ _Eh?! What?!”_ Zim looked between her and her boss, absolutely lost and confused.

“Oh _please,_ my dear, as if I would ever leave you stranded in deep space!” Mister Krassmann said as he stepped out of the car and onto the planetoid’s floor with his shiny, brown, old-fashioned shoes.

“HEY! _Care to explain what’s going on here?!”_ Zim impatiently shouted, irritated and frustrated for being ignored and excluded from the conversation.

Mister Krassmann turned to him with a jovial smile and explained, in a polite, yet i _ rony-veiled _ manner:

“In due time, my exceedingly _patient_ sir. Unfortunately, due to the circumstances, I must consult with my associate in private before I can safely entertain a conversation with you”

“What _circumstances?!_ Didn’t you come here to take me and my ship off this hideous floating rock?!” Zim tapped his foot on the ground in a gesture that was very much _not patient._

She really wanted to tell Zim to knock it off with that rude attitude and to _please_ put his guns away, but felt that her intervention would only worsen his position. 

_What am I even worried about? What do I care if he gets killed? It’s not like he would do the same_ _for me, she considered._

Mister Krassmann placidly replied:

“Well, you see, as I landed on this so-called _hideous floating rock,_ I couldn’t help but notice that _you_ were pointing _those”,_ he pointed at Zim’s drawn out lasers, “at the miss _here”,_ he pointed at Driver, “who just so happens to be my much beloved business partner”

“She had it coming! She ruined _ZiM’s ship!”_ Zim growled.

Mister Krassmann turned to her with a raised eyebrow:

“Is that true?”

She narrowed her eyes at Zim, and they exchanged a hostile look.

“ _Let’s be generous and say it was a joint effort”_ she hissed.

“Well, whoever the original instigator of your dispute might have been, because of the nature of our mutual profession, I cannot overlook any instance of violence whenever we are both involved. Therefore, I hope you’ll understand if the miss and I will retire to my vehicle to discuss what action to better take” and with that, he opened the back door of the car, gesturing to her with his hand to come in.

Driver promptly headed to the car and sat inside on one of the seats.

“Hey, wait! How do I know you won’t just take off without me?!” Zim protested.

“I’m afraid you are going to have to place your trust in us, my exceedingly polite, and hopefully _trustful_ sir” Mister Krassmann replied, and before Zim could say anything more, he quickly slipped into the car on the seat facing her and closed the door behind him.

After the much-too-small seat of Zim’s cruiser and the planetoid’s rough, hard surface, she was happy to finally rest on something comfortable and soft again; but even though the back of the car was quite spacious, allowing two sets of facing seats, she still felt  _ constricted _ with the Boss sitting in front of her: she had learned well that his kindness and politeness could never be taken at face-value, so it was still too early to tell what his real state of mind was at the moment.

_ Oh, please, don’t fire me.  _

_“_ _My dear”_ he sighed in heartfelt concern, a worried expression on his face: “Whatever has happened to leave you, of all people, stranded in space? And just what is the deal with the Irken fellow out there?”

“Hah, it’s a long story...” she awkwardly smiled at him.

“That’s most alright, my darling. I want to hear all about it. Please, don’t spare the details. We have all the time in the universe” he reassured her.

Driver looked out of the window: Zim was  _ kicking the car’s side. _ He looked like he was shouting something, presumably demanding to be let in, but the car had been momentarily soundproofed both ways. He probably hadn’t realized that those were one-way windows too, and that they could perfectly see him even though  _ he _ couldn’t.

Driver cringed. She really,  _ really _ didn’t want to explain to Mister Krassmann that she’d been attracted to him. He, however, didn’t seem in the least bit concerned about Zim attacking his car, and carried on without even looking at him:

“Would you like for me to pour you a drink?” he offered.

“Just plain water would be great, thanks” she nodded.

He opened a box next to his seat and drew out a bottle of water and a glass.

After she drank half of her glass, she took a deep breath in, and started telling about the happenings from the night before to the present time, describing all of them in great details -all except the parts where she and Zim made out. And she _completely_ omitted the… _bed thing._

Even with the most  _ compromising  _ details left out, telling that story to him was so embarrassing and awkward, she almost hoped that he would just fire her so that she would never have to face him again. What made it even worse, is that he listened to all of it with the greatest interest and  _ participation,  _ occasionally nodding or raising his eyebrows, or even intervening with gasps and comments about the most  _ exciting  _ parts.

But when she finished, he just stayed quiet, seemingly pondering on how he should deal with her now.

Because that silence was making her nervous, she decided to break it and bluntly asked:

“Are you going to fire me?”

“Why do you think I should fire you?” he asked back in a neutral, unreadable tone. She hated when he did that _to her._

Every answer she could think of seemed damning, and so she just kept quiet, lowered her gaze and took a sip of water out of her glass.

“If you are referring to what happened with the blob mister and his bar, I think you are overestimating the gravity of the situation” he reassured her. “Complete, absolute anonymity and secrecy is simply impossible, my dear. Being found out is inevitable at times. Luckily, the universe is huge, and hiding in it is fairly easy. I’m sure your teleporter won’t be traced back -especially considering that the records of your teleportations likely burned with the establishment they were in”.

Well, that was true. That wasn’t even the first time their identities had been uncovered: the problem was  _ how  _ it had happened. If her employee had pulled something like that, she would have frankly fired them. But she didn’t voice her opinion in that regard: she wasn’t going to give him any ideas. Instead, she made a meek smile and played with her glass, nervously tapping her thumbs on it.

“Oh, _please,_ don’t tell me you are embarrassed about your little _affair?”_ he laughed amicably, “You are young! You want to enjoy life! I can completely understand that! I was young once too, you know!”

Her cheeks flared up, and she looked away in a flinch. She felt like a teenage girl being lectured by her own father.

“Hah, how can I not be embarrassed about it?” she chuckled.

_ Now he knows what kind of men I’m attracted to,  _ she thought with dread.

_“_ _However”_ he added, “the real problem is that mister Zim out there”, he pointed out of the car’s window.

She turned and was startled to see that Zim had his guns _pointed_ at the car: he fired them, bright sparks flashing on the other side of the window, but the special glass it was made of was impenetrable to his small lasers. Zim’s mouth opened wide as if he was screeching at the top of his lungs. 

_ Classy.  _

“Are you sure he is traveling alone?” Mister Krassmann asked her, a thoughtful expression on his face, like he couldn’t see what was going on just a few literal inches from his face.

Driver nodded; then, he asked again:

“Would you want for him to be dead?”

“Er… _what?”_

“We can simply fire at him with the car’s defensive system and leave as if nothing has ever happened. Would that be alright with you?” he nonchalantly proposed.

“I-I… _I am not sure I want him to die”_ she tentatively answered.

Mister Krassmann furrowed his brows.

“But you said he turned on you this morning. After having spent _the night_ with you” he retorted, “I thought Earth women were unforgiving regarding unfaithful partners”

“It’s not that I’m not angry at him! It’s just that... _I don’t think he was being insincere last night._ I think we really _did connect_ last night. That’s… that’s why… uh...”

_ Yeah, why did the thought of killing Zim bother her so much? ‘No mercy for traitors’ was one of her core morals. And he was clearly one, right? So why was she still making excuses for him? _

_She reflected for a moment, and found that the only reasonable explanation, was that a part of her still liked_ _him._ Oh, her dumb, stupid, soft heart…

Mister Krassmann nodded thoughtfully again, then asked:

“And this connection… do you hope- do you _think_ you would be able to gain it back?”

Driver looked at him, puzzled. What kind of weird question was that?

“Why are you asking me that?”

“Let me put it this way: do you think he is completely impossible to cooperate with?”

She stared back at him with a questioning look.

“You see, just moments before you sent me that SOS message, I had been notified of yet another incident that has befallen one of our common associates; that is, our trustworthy mechanic, _Zachary._ He has been _hospitalized._ The prognosis is _six months”_ he said, his expression now full of concern.

Driver’s eyes widened.

“What?! Zach? No way!” she exclaimed, “He is such a sturdy, strong guy! What happened?!”

“Apparently, he guzzled a literal gallon-worth concoction of space martini, space vodka, space whiskey, another dozen unidentified space liquors, and _bolts_ in one _sitting_. Really, it’s a miracle he is still alive” he explained with a grave, grief-stricken tone.

“Oh. That does sound like Zach. But what does that have to do with Zim?”

“Well, you see, with the hempzin leaves season coming up our times are especially tight: finding a new mechanic who’s trustworthy and skilled enough to entrust our ship with with such a short notice would be tricky. And we certainly cannot afford to go without a functioning ship for six months. So, since mister Zim already knows of our _secret_ and we need him to be on our side-”

 _“_ _You want to hire HIM as a mechanic?!”_ she interrupted him, absolutely astonished.

“Only momentarily, but yes, that was my idea” he nodded.

“How do you even know he is a capable mechanic?!”

“Irken Invaders are all well-trained mechanics. Of course though, before hiring him I would have to properly interview him”

"Where would he even work? Would you transfer our ship to his own place, wherever that is?"

"About that… I was thinking that since he’s already been to your house, it would be more practical and more secure if he just worked there" he admitted with an uncharacteristically guilty, embarrassed voice.

He must realize too that that was an outlandish proposal, after everything Zim had just put her through: after holding her at gun-point  _ and  _ almost leaving her to die, she was supposed to  _ host him  _ at her home? For entire days,  _ weeks maybe?! Mister Krassmann often came up with rather bizarre plans, but this beat them all! _

“So you are suggesting I should use my… _charm…_ to entice him into working with us?” she slowly paraphrased for him.

“Well, naturally I would also offer him a salary proper like with any _normal_ employee of mine” he precised, _“However_. Do you believe you would be capable of doing so if case called for it?”

She took another few moments to reflect on that, and… maybe... deep down _she did wish she could do that._ But _hope_ wasn’t the same as _certainty._

"I honestly still don't understand why you would trust him so easily, sir, after what he did this morning" she said: she herself certainly  _ didn’t. _

“Irken allies are as useful as they are rare” he simply replied.

Of course he knew what Irkens were: she had no doubt he knew everything there had to be known about the universe. Still, what did that even mean? What was the deal with this Irken Empire? But before she could ask him about it, he went on:

“By all means, this is all up to you. It's _your_ house, and you don't have to welcome anyone in it that you don’t want. And at this point in time you know him way better than I do. If you think he really is absolutely impossible to trust, I'll believe you and we will simply look for an alternative solution".

Driver blinked. Did this ‘alternative solution’ include killing him like he’d first suggested, lest he revealed information about her and her rented planet?

Once again, she attentively reflected upon.

Mister Krassmann politely remained quiet as she did so.

Finally, she spoke:

“… I _think_ I can give him a second chance” she slowly nodded, “But at the _first_ strike, he’s _out._ Both of my house _and_ of our business” she quickly added in a harsher tone.

"So if I interviewed him and found him suitable for the job, you would be willing to host him at your own house?" he repeated to make sure they were on the same page.

“… yes. Yes, I would” she answered.

 _This is so, so stupid,_ she thought. _Why am I doing this? Again? Out of pity? Curiosity?,_ and she knew both answers were correct: she wanted, _needed even,_ a second chance to know if the charming, adorable alien she’d gotten to know the night before was real or had just been an alcohol-induced _ghost; a_ nd she also wanted to know what his real deal with Earth was. Then, she would be at peace with herself, no matter what the truth was.

  
  


Meanwhile outside of the car, Zim had given up on forcibly opening the car  _ or  _ getting their attention in any way: he couldn’t see them through the obscured windows, nor hear any sound from within the vehicle,  so the same would probably the other way around too . And he wasn’t sure what that car was made of, but it was impenetrable from both his lasers  _and_ his kicks.

Were they secretly plotting against him? Were they going to leave him stranded there? One human had been enough of a pain to deal with, and now their numbers had _doubled._ Seriously, how long would he have to put up with that horrible species?! Even off the Earth, they kept finding new, disgusting, creating ways to _torment_ him!

All of a sudden though, the human woman finally got out of the car, and walked towards him: she had a cold, indecypherable expression on her face.

"My boss wants to talk to you in private” she said, and gestured to the car.

Zim tilted his head and furrowed his brows.

"About what?" he asked.

"You should ask him when you talk to him"

"You said he would pick me and my ship off this awful asteroid!" he retorted, irritated.

"I’m sure that if you act nice to him, he will" she replied impassible.

There was no other way around it, was there? _Very well._ He would talk to this ‘boss’, and if he didn't want to give him what he wanted... he'd simply _take it._ What could a mere human do against him in such an enclosed place anyway?

Zim took a few steps towards the car, when the human warned him:

"For your own good, _do not be rude._ And don't bother lying to him. He'll see through your every lie anyway".

He gritted his teeth. How could that human have the  nerve to call him a  _ liar?!  _ Well, not that he wasn’t. But still:  h ow insolent! And what was that warning supposed to mean? Was she trying to scare him?

Just before stepping into the car, he turned and asked, suspicious:

"How do I know this isn't a _trap_ you both set up for me?"

The human shrugged.

"In that case, I guess you are just going to die, aren’t you?" she said in a bored tone.

That line and the cold tone in which she’d stated it sent a chill down his spine for... some... reason. So much for "liking him", uh? Humans were such  _ fickle, untrustworthy creatures.  _

He warily opened the car's back door and stepped in.

"Ah, there you are, mister Zim! Please take a seat!" the man greeted him in an overly-courteous tone, waving his hand at the seats opposite to him.

Zim jumped on one of the seats without ever moving his glaring eyes from the him: his polite act was even more suspiciously accentuated than the woman’s.

He was about to speak -demanding to be escorted away and repaid and end the whole ordeal quickly, but the man said something that left him utterly confused:

"First of all, would it make you more comfortable if I switched to my Irken form?"

“Your… _Irken what?"_ he asked back.

“Here, I'll show you" the man smiled, and in an instant his whole figure... _twirled_ on itself, as if under his clothes and _skin_ it was actually made from a _black_ _smoke:_ the swirl of colors morphed in a smaller, differently-colored form, and when it stopped there stood an _Irken_ in place of the middle-aged human.

“When I'm in my Irken form, my name is _Krass!"_ he smiled in a slightly higher-pitched voice and a less formal tone, and he extended a hand to Zim.

Zim was too shocked to react _or_ talk: the Irken in front of him was considerably smaller than the man from before, but still taller than him himself; he had long antennae on top of his head and yellow eyes; he even had a PAK and wore a standard Irken uniform: if Zim hadn't seen him in his original appearance, he would have never guessed he was actually not a member of his own species.

"You... are not a human?!"

"I'm afraid not. Were you hoping for me to be?" he asked with curious eyes.

_ "What are you exactly?"  _ he asked again.

"I’m afraid I can’t tell you. It’s a secret" he replied placing his index finger in front of his mouth; he'd probably noticed his discomfort, because he then asked: "Is this form making you _uncomfortable?"_

Zim slowly nodded:  h e looked  _ way  _ too much like a real Irken. It was _creeping_ him out.

"That's weird. But alright, I guess the human form will have to do" Krass commented, and his form twirled in a smoky twist of colors once more, morphing back to his ‘human form’.

"When I am in my human form, my name is Mister Krassmann" he smiled, and again he extended his hand to him.

Zim pressed his back against the seat. Was he some kind of  _shape-shifting monster?_ He'd heard of shape-shifting creatures, but never of such quick, precise abilit ies! Whatever this...  _ thing  _ in front of him was, he had no intention of touching it;  so he simply  stared at  his hand,  with  a  mixture of suspicion and fear.

Now that car seemed much, much _smaller_ than it was before.

Mister Krassmann seemed to get the hint that he had no intention of shaking his hand, and drew it back.

"How about something to drink then?" he offered, and he opened a box embedded in the car’s structure next to his seat.

Zim winced.

"I’m not gonna drink any alcohol!" he stated.

"I was thinking more of a nice cup of tea. After all, it should be around 5 in the afternoon on Earth right now, shouldn’t it?" he precised as he drew a whole _fuming teapot_ out of the box.

"No, I- Wait, _who keeps a_ _teapot_ _in a car?!_ Never mind, look, _shapeshifter,_ just tell me what you want with me so I can finally get off this stupid rock!" he tried to cut short.

"Very well" he said as he poured himself a cup. He put the teapot back in the box and closed it.

Then, he asked him:

"Why didn't you ask for help to your fellow Irken soldiers, waiting for my arrival instead?"

Zim slightly jumped: he wasn’t expecting a question like that.

"Uh... because, uh- I-I didn't wanna be seen together with a human after a crash, of course!" he lied.

The shapeshifter kept his yellow eyes locked on him as he sipped on his tea: they were so curious and intense, it almost felt like they could even peek inside his PAK's files. Zim swallowed, his throat uncomfortably dry. _Now I get what the human meant…_

The _monster_ didn't contradict him, though. Instead, he simply nodded and went on speaking in a more casual tone:

"Speaking of my associate, she told me about your little _fling_ from last night"

Zim flinched. How many times was he going to be reminded of _that?!_

 _"Whatever she told you, it's_ _NOT_ _true"_ he hissed.

"Oh, I'm sure she was talking with eyes clouded by  _ romance:  _ _ y _ ou seem to have completely swept her off her feet".

… _romance?_ That human had really _fallen in love_ with him?

Zim felt some part of his organs  _ churn  _ inside of him at that. Probably just a random body spasm.

"... I have?... but she destroyed my ship, and pointed a gun at me!" he pointed out. She had evidently liked him the night before, but now? There was nothing but _hostility_ coming from her!

"She is just a little angry that you almost left her to die. She’s practically already over it" he replied in an unconcerned tone. "In fact, when I suggested we should just take you out and leave your lifeless body on this planetoid, she fiercely opposed my idea with tooth and nail!"

Zim’s antennae perked on his head:

"... she did? Really?" so that human still _liked_ him? A surge of pride swelled in his chest.

 _Not that I really care about it, of course,_ he reassured himself. _It’s only natural that she still likes me (as disgusting as that fact in itself is): once one recognizes_ _ZiM’s objective superiority, there is no more denying the truth!..... wait, did he just admit he'd thought about killing m-_

"Oh, of course" the monster nodded his head energetically, cutting off his train of thought, "So much so, that I thought instead of an alternative way to settle this whole affair, that is going to benefit all the three of us"

 _"…_ _which is?_ _"_ Zim asked, back on the alert.

The monster placed the still-fuming cup on the closed box and started his explanation, punctuating each sentence with a gesture of his hands:

"You see:” he put his hands on his chest "my associate and I are in need for a _mechanic_ to repair our work ship", he turned his hands towards Zim "and _you,_ sir, are in need for monies and resources to repair your _own_ ship”, he joined his hands and shook them together “Therefore, I propose this simple deal to you: you will repair our work ship, and in return I shall provide you with the monies _and_ the resources required to repair your own cruiser”.

"... What?!" Zim shouted, indignant. _"Me,_ working for someone like _you?_ That's ridiculous! ZiM serves no one but _himself!!!_ … oh, _and the Empire!”_

"Oh, don't think of it as something on the same level as _pledging your_ _allegiance_ _to your empire!_ Think more of it as a... temporary, short, _part-time job_ to help you _top up your wages!"_ _the monster clarified, shaking his head and smiling._

"… ‘top up my wages?’" he repeated.

"Yes! A way to earn a few extra monies between one conquered planet and the other! Keep in mind, this would all last no more than two weeks  _ tops:  _ _ a _ small, insignificant thing compared to your actual life vocation as an  _ invader.  _ Unless you don't have anything urgent to turn to, of course. But I’m willing to bet, that after the impressive feat of  _ conquering the entire planet Earth by yourself,  _ your supervisors have left you plenty of free time  as a well-earned reward!"

“Eh? What? What are you- uh- _I mean,_ yes! _Of course!_ That planet! That I totally… don’t have to destroy… still… because I’ve already destroyed! it. Hm.” Zim hastily corrected himself: for a moment he’d forgotten of the lie he’d told that human about the state of his mission.

Zim shifted uncomfortably on his seat. That’s right. By now he _should_ have conquered Earth and wiped out all its inhabitants. But instead, he was practically stranded in space and with no idea or resources to even _find it._

… in the end, all things considered, maybe stretching his search by one or two weeks wouldn't hurt: even if his ship had been functional at this point, he still wouldn’t have the monies to continue anyway. And it's not like the Earth would move away from... wherever it was now!… _probably._

"How many monies would you pay me?" he asked.

"Considering the heavy damage the ship received... the pay would be of _20,000 mon_ _ies_ _._ As for the repairs to your own ship, I could provide you with the parts necessary charge-free, but they will likely won't be original Irken parts".

Zim's jaw dropped. Was the monster for real?!

 _"20,000 monies?_ For simply repairing your ship?!"

"More or less, yes: it is a very expensive, precious, and _advanced_ ship. Not to mention its _sentimental value”_

"And the replacement parts for my cruiser... would be _free?"_

"Yes, although, again, probably not original".

Zim looked down, reflecting.  Repairing a ship would be a piece of cake for him: 20,000 monies was a ridiculously high price for the effort it would take him!  _ And  _ he could repair his cruiser himself  _for free_ . And with that many monies and his cruiser fully operational, his mission would progress even faster than it could ever do before!

"All of this... would only last two weeks?"

"Yes, well, that would be the deadline we need the ship fixed and ready to take off for”.

A devious smile crept on Zim’s face.

"Yes... yes!" he whispered "That would be  _ perfect!"  _

The monster extended his hand to him again.

"Do we have a deal then?" he smiled.

Zim was so ecstatic, that touching that creature didn’t seem so bad now.

“ _I believe we do”_ he replied, as he took his hand and shook it. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The MC's boss hires Zim to repair their broken ship they use for their job and now Zim has to live for a while at the MC's house. Next chapter is going to be less 'formal' and more fun I assure you


	7. Is Your Arm on Fire?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Zim tries his hardest to distance himself from the human he's being forced to live with in every sense of the term, but a lab accident ruins his plans.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [I rewrote parts of this chapter because I didn't really like how it came out; you can read it if you want but it's mostly the same chapter.]
> 
> This is the longest chapter yet; I'm pretty nervous about it to be honest. If you can, leave a comment and tell me what you thought of it please!
> 
> I had some problems writing this chapter and the song that gave me back my inspiration was "Amour" by Rammstein. Make of that what you will.

Driver had planned for this forced cohabitation to bring Zim and her closer; unfortunately, her plan wasn’t turning out at all like she’d hoped.

First of all, they barely even interacted with each other: Zim adamantly refused to exit the secret underground room that doubled as her basement and a repair bay/parking space for her ship until he’d finished repairing both their ships (in order to finish the job more quickly, or so he’d said); he didn't need a bed, he didn’t need rest, and he didn’t need a bathroom.

Effectively, they got to see each other thrice a day, when she climbed down to bring him a meal.

And even with their interactions reduced to the bare minimum required, Zim seemed to have resolved to make them as unpleasant as possible: every time he saw her, he would make an annoyed face, always equipped with a brand new thing to complain about: the humidity, the temperature, the ventilation, or the pH of the room; the inadequacy of the instruments he had been provided with; and (something she'd never imagined would be a problem) the food.

Zim was a very picky eater, being unwilling or unable to eat a great deal of Earth food; he'd even written down a no-no foods list, which included most vegetables and fruits, cheese, meat and beans; the latter two had been additionally underlined, circled and crossed out with a red pen (which was weird, because she only recalled having given him a black one). As a consequence, she’d had to order alien food for him, which she wasn't particularly fond of.

On top of _that,_ he’d complained about her cooking itself too; nothing ever seemed to satisfy him: too salty, too sweet; overcooked, undercooked; one time, he’d even whined that the scrambled eggs had been stirred -quote on quote- _in the wrong direction._

She’d tried to always respond impassible and neutral to his insults: she didn't want things to escalate like they had after the crash on the planetoid; although at times, the urge to zap him with her ray gun got very, _very_ tempting.

The only time she could look at a non-annoyed, non-hostile Zim, were the few seconds after she stepped in the basement and before he noticed her presence: he was always so busy, that that never happened right away. No matter the hour, she would always found him diligently bent on his work, exuding inexhaustible energy: his little hands worked so precisely and quickly, and even though they were performing manual work, they looked like they were _gracefully dancing_ around the gears and instruments. His ruby eyes were attentive, focused, and as always so, _so pretty._

But that was about it: whenever he'd turn to find that she was in the same room as him, his gaze would corrugate in a disapproving, annoyed expression, and he'd immediately give up on whatever he was doing to spout some new rude remark to her.

Now, on the fifth or so day that this same cycle had repeated, she'd given up on the hope to see again the stranger she'd casually met that night: he must have really been a mere product of coincidence. And of the alcohol. And maybe he really had never liked her in the first place.

What a pity.

But eventually, she was sure, she would get over it. She had her own homework to take care of. Two weeks would pass quickly and then she would just leave all of this story behind her.

  
  


  
  


Zim of course was doing all of this intentionally to keep her away from him, but _not_ _for the reasons she thought._

Work was proceeding smoothly: there was a great deal to do, between the outer plates, the engine, the internal plumbing and electric system, that needed replacement or fixing; and he didn’t have the aid of an AI or an assistant like he would normally do; all of that was enough to keep his mind away from the pressing question of his mission.

However, it was _not_ enough to keep his mind away from _the human:_ whenever work got too monotone and his thoughts started to wander, they would always stumble upon that _horrible_ night. And whenever they did so, he could feel his cheeks flare up and his organs _turn_ on themselves and his very _blood_ flowing faster, like he was having a weird allergic reaction.

Of course, the presence of the human worsened this condition; but the very _worst_ part of it, was that every time he saw her he just couldn't bring himself _to hate her._

He couldn't bring himself to see her as _hideous._ He couldn't bring himself to think _low_ of her, in any way.

Even the food she would bring, so many times had he tried to chew on it, and to flip it over inside his mouth to find something that would disgust him, but he _couldn’t:_ her meals would inevitably all taste delicious, and now a part of him was even _looking forward_ to tasting something cooked by her; by now, he was running out of imaginary critiques of it.

And, paradoxically, he, really, truly _hated_ her for it. In fact, he didn’t know it was possible to simultaneously hate and _not_ hate someone to this extent.

 _Don't think about it, don’t think about her,_ he would repeat to himself, _just hold on for a little more, and then you will have your ship and your monies and you will never have to see her again!_

But this resolution of his came undone on that very fifth day: he was trying to test the repaired engine; he had built a small remote-control to activate it, so that he wouldn’t have to climb back into the ship to turn it on. Problem is, the switch wasn’t working.

“Oh, come on you stupid thing! Work!” he spasmodically tried to switch the little lever on and off, again and again. But nothing.

He tried getting closer to the ship’s engine. Again, nothing.

“Why won’t it work! I just tested it _moments_ ago! Why-” but all of a sudden, he heard a noise coming from under the ship; like a stirring of gears and mechanical parts. It sounded like something was _moving_ through the ship’s bottom mechanism; the sound got to one of the propellers, the one he was right in front of. Then, he saw a light igniting in its bottom.

Zim let out a scream as he quickly jumped to his right, barely evading a huge blast of fire that erupted with a roar from the left propeller: he fell on the floor on his rear, and he quickly scrambled with the remote trying to turn it back off: the flame from the propeller slowly dissipated.

Panting, still frightened by the near-death experience, Zim looked around the room to check for damage: thankfully, _miraculously,_ the only damage it had caused was a blackened ceiling. And him almost being incinerated.

Frustrated, Zim jumped back on his feet and railed against the machine, flailing his arms about.

“ _What is wrong with this stupid ship!_ I fixed the engine just fine, and it just tried to _disintegrate me!_ I swear, they aren’t paying me enough for this-”

“Hey! What happened?” an alarmed voice resounded behind him.

Zim jumped and turned around: the human woman was standing in the doorway, a concerned look on her face.

Bad occurrences never presented alone, did they?

Zim, jumped down the platform the ship was on, and headed towards her with heavy steps, angered.

“ _What is it that you want now, human?!_ I’m working! Dinner isn’t due for at least another two hours!” he complained. “Also, your wretched ship just tried to kill me! If I didn’t know better, I’d say it did it on purpose!”

The human stayed silent for a moment; for some inexplicable reason, her expression had turned from curious and worried to shocked and horrified.

What was wrong with her? Was she _broken?_

“… Zim” she quietly said.

“ _What now?”_ he asked, exasperate.

“Is… is your arm on fire?”

Zim was about to shout her to shut up, but at those words the scream died in his throat.

He looked at his left arm: no fire in sight. Just his old, regular arm. It was definitely _not on fire._

He turned his head to his right arm: bright, red flames were consuming the fabric of his glove and sleeve. Yup, that arm was without undoubtedly, _decisively_ on fire.

“MY ARM IS ON FIRE!! GYAAAAAH!!!” he screamed at the top of his spooch as he started running in circles and waving his arm around.

The human said something, but he barely registered that: he was in complete and utter panic, because no matter how much he flailed his arm, the fire would just not go out. And it was becoming hotter and hotter. _Painfully_ hotter.

Zim started to hyperventilate. He tried peeling off the glove with his left hand, he tried doing so _twice,_ but both times his hand instinctively jerked away from the flame.

“ _Computer! Computer, extinguish the fire!”_ he called out for help, but that wasn’t the laboratory in his base. Therefore, there was no Computer to call for help. There was _no one_ to call for help.

_The fire would now start creeping up his arm and soon it’d burn his shoulder, and his neck and his face, and then he would-_

Suddenly, he felt a cold liquid splashing all over him, and the fire that had appeared so big and so unstoppable and so terrifying to him just a second ago disappeared like it was never there in the first place.

He stopped running; still panting, he looked, puzzled, at his ruined glove and sleeve: where before there was fire, were now drops of water dripping down his arm. In fact, most of his body had been soaked in water.

He looked around to search for the source of it, and saw that the human was now holding a mostly-empty plastic tank.

She threw it to the side and rushed towards him:

“Oh my God! Are you okay? Are you hurt?” she asked concerned, and she bent forward, trying to reach him with her hands.

“I- uh...” he backed off with a fearful expression, like her hands too had been made of fire.

His right arm was sore: he grabbed it with his left hand, and the contact with his scalded skin made him flinch.

“Come on, let me see that arm” she tried to reach for it, but he swiftly turned around to keep it away from her.

“ _Back off!”_ he ordered, spying her from over his shoulder “It’s nothing! I’m NOT hurt! _Just go away and leave me alone!”_

But she didn’t listen to him. Instead, she kneeled behind him and continued:

“Oh come on, I can _see_ that you are hurt. Stop acting like a child and let me help you” she said in a condescending tone.

“ _I am not a child and I do not need your puny help! Mind your business, WOMAN!”_ he shouted.

That seemed to have done the trick: the human went silent, and slowly got back on her feet.

Reassured, he turned to check on his arm, but as soon as he did so, a couple of arms closed him in a grip from behind: the human locked her arms around him and raised him off the ground, pressing his back against her torso, and effectively blocking his own arms.

That set him in a panic not unlike the one from earlier:

“AARGH! What are you doing?! PUT ME DOWN! _PUT ME DOWN THIS INSTANT!”_ Zim screeched in protest.

"Only once you've calmed down" the human replied.

“NO! LET ME GO, I SAID! _LET ME GO!"_

Zim struggled and thrashed and kicked the air with his legs and threw his head left and right, which made the human stumble a bit, but her grip remained as firm as iron. He tried releasing his mechanical legs out of the PAK, but the plates wouldn’t budge, pressed as they were against her body.

The discomfort of being held by the human was comparable to being consumed by the flames: _her smell_ was all over him, as well as her _warmth_ , and he could hear _her breath,_ and through the fabric of their clothes he could feel the _shape of her body_ , just like when-

 _"I DON’T NEED YOUR HELP! I DON’T NEED ANYONE!"_ he tried to silence those sensations by shouting, _"GIR! GIR RESCUE ME!"_

"Uh? Who are you talking to?" the human asked in confusion.

"HE- uh, he..." he stammered, confused by his own words.

Zim kept thrashing and kicking for another several minutes, but the human stubbornly held him still. Eventually, he got tired; his arm was hurting more and more from the scalding; and the human clearly wouldn’t let him go until she got what she wanted: resigned, he let his legs hang limp in the air.

When he did so, the human finally started moving towards the stairs, though without lightening her grip on him; when she reached the top of the staircase, a plate automatically sled to the side: they emerged in the living room through the door hidden behind the pendulum clock; as she walked into the room, the pendulum clock sled back into place behind them.

Then, she carried him all over way to the bathroom on the upper floor, the only room of the house he’d never been in.

She gently placed him on the closed toilet seat, and checked on his right arm, hesitant.

“Maybe we should bring you to a doctor. I’ve heard burnt fabric can stick and fuse with your skin-”

Zim grabbed his glove by the fingertips and took it off with a swift sweep, like a plaster.

“Oohhh!” the human let out a surprised sigh, as though she herself had felt pain at that. “Man, you are so brave”.

Zim checked his arm as he rolled up the blackened, burnt sleeve: it wasn’t as bad as it _felt,_ but still, there was a big scald extending from his wrist to his elbow on the upper side of his arm; it wasn’t deep either, but his skin had assumed an unhealthy pinkish-gray coloring in certain areas, and _it hurt._

Zim groaned in pain and annoyance: that was probably going to take a couple of days to fully heal.

Luckily, the glove had taken most of the damage; but now, it was pretty much unusable: the outer layer had practically _melted._ A few more seconds, and the fabric really would have fused with his skin. Disgruntled, Zim let the ruined glove fall on the floor.

The human looked for something in a cabinet. She shuffled in it a bit, then turned around with a small tube in her hand. She got on her knees and gestured towards his arm:

“Give me your arm” she ordered.

“… what is that?” he asked.

“It’s a cream against burns” she replied as she squeezed the white content of the tube onto her fingers.

Was she… going to put that _thing_ on him?

Zim drew back his hurt arm in disgust.

“ _You are NOT putting that filth on my skin”_ he growled.

“Oh, this again?” she rolled her eyes at him in annoyance “If we don’t medicate it, it might get infected”.

“This… _This stinks”_ he hissed, unable to produce a reasonable objection. “This would have never happened in my own base. I can’t believe this is happening to me!”

The human eyed him with a hostile gaze:

“What, are you going to blame _me or my ship for this?_ Accidents happen all the time, you know. _Now stop being such a baby and-”_

“‘ _Being a baby?!’”_ Zim shouted at her, full of indignation “Do you have any idea how hard this is for me?! _You don’t know what I’ve been through!”_

She blinked, surprised at his reaction.

“I-” she tried to say, but he interrupted her again:

“ _I am stranded on a planet I don’t even know where it is! I don’t have a ship! I don’t have monies! I don’t even know if I still have a mission any more! And now I almost died! I am sitting on a toilet, soaking wet, with a burnt arm! And a human is gonna have to help me!”_ he shouted, though not completely willingly: it was as if those words were pouring out of him through an opened crack.

“If at least GIR were here-”

“Who is Gir?” she asked.

“My robot minion! From Earth! He- Urrgh...” Zim growled, grasping for words.

“He may not even _exist_ at this point! _Because of ME!_ AND- and, and _do you have any idea how lonely I’ve been feeling?!”_ his voice cracked on that last word, and he abruptly stopped talking.

He still wanted to lash out about how insufferable and upsetting her presence had been to him, but he felt a knot in his throat, and his mouth trembled: he was sure that if he’d said one more word, he would just burst into _crying,_ and he would have rather burned alive than doing that in front of that human.

Feeling exhausted, he let himself lean against the toilet’s back.

How could he ever think any of this would help? Monies or not monies, ship or not ship, he still didn’t have a concrete plan on what to do afterwards. To be completely realistic, there was a very real possibility that _nothing_ could be done at this point.

After weeks, he was still stranded in space, wounded, had possibly ruined his mission for good, reduced to sharing a home with a human. A human he had… _frolicked_ with. If the Tallest or his fellow Invaders knew what he’d been up to, he would be a laughingstock for all of Irk.

And then he’d be _rightly_ executed.

The human was now looking at him with the same concerned look from before. Oh, he _hated_ the way she looked at him so much… As if _she_ could in any capacity _empathize_ with _him._

“I’m… sorry, Zim. I didn’t mean to offend you” she apologized. Her voice was now much softer and gentler than before. She seemed unsure on how to continue, but eventually, she asked again:

“Can I put the medicine on your arm now?”

Zim eyed her. To be honest, he didn’t feel like he had the energy to argue against her. What was the point of resisting now anyway? Truthfully, the only thing he wanted to do right now was crawling into a corner and just. Stay there. Molding, perhaps. Forever. She might as well do what she wanted with him.

He raised his arm and begrudgingly offered it to her.

Gently, she grabbed his hand, her thumb in the middle of his palm, to keep his arm still; with her right hand, she spread the medical cream on it: Zim shuddered at the contact; her fingers moved in slow, delicate movements that were almost hypnotic. Zim closed his eyes and exhaled: the coolness of the cream was pleasant on his burnt skin.

“Look, Zim” the human said. “I know you don’t like humans. And I know you don’t like me. But for now we are colleagues, right? _We are on the same side”._

Zim blinked his eyes open at her: she was looking at him with a kind smile.

“Let’s just start from scratch and help each other out, okay?” she proposed.

Zim felt his cheeks flare up, and he averted his eyes. Seeing her smiling at him made him want to throw up.

“About that...” he said, unsure, “What if... I… _didn’t_ … repair your ship?”

“… What?!” her eyes widened in shock “You want to call the deal off? Why?”

Zim simply looked at his feet, which were hanging from the toilet, and swung them. He didn’t really feel like working on that ship again: he didn’t see what the point in that was now.

“You know, I’m pretty sure Mister Krassmann has already ordered the parts for your ship” she noted.

“Who?”

“Mister Krassmann… my- _our_ Boss?”

“Oh, right. Him. Well. Uhm. He can keep them if he wants...” Zim murmured.

The human didn’t respond to that. When she was done rubbing the cream on his arm, she got up, and drew a roll of gauze out of the same cabinet.

“Will you let me wrap your arm?” she asked.

He regretfully offered his arm again, and she started wrapping it with the gauze.

“Aren’t you going to say anything about me quitting the job?” he asked.

“I think you’re just upset. And hurt” she replied. “You can make a decision about the job after you’re rested and in a better mood”.

“‘Rest’ and ‘good mood’ are not going to solve my problem” Zim pointed out. “Probably, nothing is...”

“Oh, do not be ridiculous” she placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder and gently squeezed it: “All problems have a solution. Everything is going to work out in the end”.

Of course, her reassurance had no real weight or substance to it, but _something_ in the way she’d said it, maybe the calmness, or the absolute matter-of-fact tone she’d used, had the incredible effect of actually calming down his anxious state.

Zim stared into her eyes: again, she had that _nauseatingly understanding, sweet smile_ on her face.

It occurred to him that she was still squeezing his hand and his shoulder: at that, he felt his blood pump skipping a beat in his chest.

For a moment, he was sure she would kiss him. His body tensed, and his jaw clenched in anticipation. Had she done that, he would have probably not fought her.

“Why don’ you take the night off?” she asked. “We can have dinner together and chill in my… actual house, instead of the basement”.

Zim blinked at her, surprised at the offer.

 _Say no!,_ he commanded to himself, _This is dangerous! You need to stay away from her! DO. NOT. GO._

“Yeah, sure...” his mouth murmured.

 _GYAAAWHYDIDISAYTHATWHY,_ he mentally screamed.

“Splendid” she smiled. “Come downstairs, then” she turned to the door, but Zim tried to stop her:

“Wait!”

The human turned to him, questioningly. “Yes?”

_Now’s your chance to tell her you’re not going and to lock yourself in the basement forever!_

“I… uh… uhm… cannot come, because...” he stuttered.

He _didn’t_ want to spend any more time with her, right? So why was it so hard to decline her offer?

“Oh, right!” the human exclaimed. “We need to do something about your wet clothes!”

Oh, right. He was still soaking wet from the water she’d thrown on him.

“You should take them off-”

“What’s with you and wanting to get me naked? I am NOT taking my uniform off!” he hissed.

“Okay, okay” she said nervously. “Then… I guess we can use this” she opened another drawer and drew out a hairdryer.

“‘We?’” he repeated. He imagined her drying his clothes with the hairdryer from behind, her hand lovingly placed on his shoulder, and he _shuddered._

“ _I can use it myself, thank you”_ he pouted reaching out with his healthy hand.

“Alright” she handed the object over to him “I’ll be waiting downstairs, then” and with that, she headed out of the bathroom.

So… she’d taken his stuttering for a ‘yes’?

Whatever. She might think whatever she wanted. He was _not_ going to dine with her.

But first things first, he needed to un-wet himself.

He dried his uniform as best as he could with the ill-suited instrument. When he was done, he put it back in its place and followed the human downstairs.

Zim could hear sounds coming from the kitchen.

_Now go there and make it clear that you aren’t going to consume her disgusting food with her!_

He timidly entered the room: she was at the stove, cooking dinner, in the same way she was preparing breakfast a week before; only this time, she heard him coming in.

“Dinner will be ready in a bit” she said. “Why don’t you look on the table? There should be something for you there”.

Zim looked at the table: up there, there was a paper-made, fast-food glass with a straw in it. Now that was a peculiar sight in her house.

_Just this one thing. I’ll see what this one thing is and then I’ll go back into the basement._

Zim jumped on one of the chairs and inspected the glass.

“What is this?” he asked.

“It’s a schmoothy” she answered.

“… a… schmoothy?”

“Yeah. I thought I heard you ordering one once”.

“… and?”

“I don’t understand what you’re confused about” she said cocking an eyebrow at him.

“Why did you order one? You never order fast food”

“I just thought it’d be something you’d like” she replied with a shrug of shoulders, "that's why I had come down in the basement in the first place".

“Oh…” Zim looked at the drink.

“Thank... you” he reluctantly said.

Well, he _had_ wanted to drink one for _weeks._ If he refused now, who knows when else he could have gotten the opportunity to.

He sipped the beverage from the straw: it was a regular, cool, sweet schmoothy. He closed his eyes, relishing in the familiar taste.

As he drank more of the beverage, he took a look around him: he’d never had the occasion to calmly, attentively look at the human’s house, but now that he did, he noticed that it was _weird:_ he himself wasn’t an expert on human homes, but even he could tell this one was very unusual and quite antiquate, even by Earth standards: the furniture was made from wood, carved in floral motifs, and marble; he couldn’t spot anything made of plastic. Even the kitchen tools were made from metal or wood. The same floral motifs could be found on the curtains, on the dishrags, on the kitchenware.

Zim looked at the human, intent on cooking something in two separate pots. She did say she hated her home planet and her own people. Maybe she was an odd ball among humans? Was that why she had left Earth?

Zim almost felt a smidge of compassion for her. Being an outcast among your own people, forced to live in exile on a planet light years away from your real home, must have been terrible. Just imagining the same fate befalling him gave him the chills.

 _The same thing will happen to you too if you don’t find a solution,_ a cold voice inside of him reminded him.

When the human was finished with the cooking, she placed two plates on the table.

Zim had been so absorbed in his reflection, that he’d forgotten he was supposed to _leave_ the kitchen, not _stay and dine with her._

But, the plates she’d put on the table distracted him again from this intent.

Hers, contained a mix of minced Earth vegetables.

His, both confused and disappointed him at the same time: that didn't look at all like something the human had cooked. Instead, it very much looked- scratch that, it _was_ a heated-up, pre-made meal.

"What... is this?" Zim asked her.

"Oh, it's a Thrathwortian steak. At least that's what was written on the package" the human replied as she started chewing on her own food.

" _Since when_ do you serve pre-made food?"

"Uhm... since you repeatedly told me you hate my cooking?" she replied. "What, you don’t like that either? No offense, but your palate is very hard to please".

Zim looked down on his plate.

"'twasalie" he murmured.

"Hmm? What was that?"

"I said it was a lie! I _lllike_ your stupid, AWFUL cooking, okay?!" Zim snapped and he hit the table with his fist.

"So... uhm... do not... stop... making it" he added, quieter, and he reassumed his composure.

The human looked at him, puzzled. Then she let out a laughter:

"Hahaha, oh wow! Well that’s a relief! I’d thought I’d lost my special touch! Hey, is there anything else you've lied me about?"

Zim didn't answer. Instead, he averted his eyes and started picking at his food, which he found terribly stale and dry. It was like eating the human's food at changed his taste buds, because until a week ago he had eaten nothing but similar food and he’d found nothing to complain about.

"Hey, can I ask you a question?" she asked him.

"... go ahead" he allowed.

"What exactly is your backpack? Its not just a bag, right? Back when you were sleeping the first night we met, it started flashing a yellow light. Why is that?"

Zim reflected on whether or not he should answer. In the end, he concluded that there would be no harm in it:

"My _PAK,_ as it's called, is my _life-support device_ and _memory storage._ It was flashing yellow because it had gone in standby mode, in order to better metabolize the alcohol I presume."

"So is it like... a sort of back-up brain? Only it’s a computer?", she laughed, "all this time, you've been a _cyborg?"_

"I suppose... in a way, I am" he agreed, although he wasn't too fond of that term being applied to him.

“Isn’t it weird to have like… two brains at a time?”

“Eh… no? I’ve _always_ been like that” he replied.

"Alright, here's a question for you" he said, mostly because he didn’t really want to talk about that subject any further: "why does your food taste so... unusual?"

"Hmm, I guess it tastes different to you because I make everything from scratch? Most of the food aliens make is either pre-made or junk food or both" she explained. "I even grow a lot of it. I’ve got my own garden and my animals".

"Animals? You mean besides the cat?"

"Yeah, I’ve got goats, and cows, and chickens... I guess you haven't seen them because you've always been in the basement".

"Ah, yes. The typical, _putrid,_ Earth _food-animals”_ he commented in a disgusted tone. “Do you keep any... moose?"

"Moose? No way, it’s too hot here... why would I keep a moose in the first place?"

Zim raised an eyebrow:

"As inferior as they all are, moose _are_ the ultimate Earth creatures".

 _"What?"_ the human snorted; she placed a hand on her mouth as she giggled. "Well, I do agree, their size _is_ quite impressive"

"Uh... yes it is?" Zim agreed. He wasn't sure what she was laughing about. Alien humor was always so confusing.

Zim furtively eyed the human as she ate.

That conversation, that atmosphere were so _uncomfortably_ pleasant. It reminded him way too much of the first night he’d met her.

_I need to get away from her as soon as possible, before something like that happens again._

“And how about… that mission?” she suddenly asked.

“… what mission?”

“You know… that thing about uh… Gir I believe his name was?”

Oh, how he wished he’d never uttered that name in her presence!

“That’s classified information” he said through gritted teeth.

“I only asked how you were feeling”.

“What do you care?” he spat out. “It’s not like you could do anything about it anyway!”

“You can never know if you don’t try me”.

“I don’t WANT to try you” he tried to cut her off.

The human stared at him for a moment; then, she got up, saying:

“That’s fair. That was probably inappropriate of me”.

She took the used dishes, tableware and glasses and put them in the dish-washer.

Zim thought about it: he didn’t want to turn back on the lie he’d told her, but maybe venting about his problem wouldn’t have been so bad. Maybe, it could at least make him feel better, like he’d done a little while before in the bathroom...

 _No! I’ll never ask any more help of her! I shouldn’t even be acting this amicable to her!,_ he scolded himself.

The human approached him again:

“And what about your arm?” she asked.

“Uh?”

“How’s your arm doing?” she repeated.

“… it’s fine” he mumbled. Instinctively, he gently placed his hand on his bandages; underneath, his scalded arm responded with muffled pain.

“How did it even happen?”

“… I was testing the engine, and I got in the way of the propeller” he explained in a near-guilty voice.

“What were you doing in front of the propeller during an engine test?”

He looked sideways, and stayed silent.

“Silly” the human playfully reprimanded him, and then she… _petted_ his head. Zim’s body tensed up, and he felt his cheeks blush.

“Next time you need help, just ask me” she said.

He really wanted to slap her hand away, to tell her to stay away from him and not touch him, and to spout insults at her, but her comforting, sweet voice made him feel all… _hot_ and _jiggly inside._

And for the first time since maybe his conversations with Gir, he felt he didn’t have the heart to be mean to another person.

So in the end, his only answer to that was a meek:

“Hm”.

The human placed her hands on her knees and she bent towards him:

“Listen, I have a bit of work to take care of tonight. You can use the living room, and watch a movie perhaps? Or read a book? You can do as if you were at your own house”.

Oh, right. What happened to locking himself in the laboratory?

Zim drew a long breath.

“I don’t feel like doing _anything”_ he finally said. He jumped off the seat and headed to the living room: “I’ll just stay in the laboratory”.

“And do what? Are you actually going to repair the ship?” the human asked as she followed him.

“No, I think I will… grow moss maybe. Or mold. Or a colony of insects. On my body” he said as he pointed to his torso. He was about to open the secret passage behind the pendulum clock, when the human suggested with a beaming tone, as if she’d just gotten a brilliant idea:

“What if you slept it out?”

“… ‘sleep it out’?”

“Yeah! A good sleep might help you put things into perspective”

What kind of human nonsense was this?

“Is sleep your answer for everything?” he asked her. “Sleep _isn’t_ going to help me”.

“As if staying in a _dark, musty, gloomy basemen_ t is gonna do you any better. Either way, you’re not gonna lock yourself in there in that state” she stated in a blunt tone.

“What ‘state’?!” Zim asked, irritated.

“Uh… sad? You’re pretty sad”.

“I am not _sad!_ I do not _get_ sad!” Zim retorted.

“Sure you aren’t. You are like a _glimmering ray of sunshine”_ she smiled sarcastically at him. And as he’d never said anything on the matter, she opened a chest of drawers in the left side of the room, drew out a couple of folded blankets, and placed them on the sofa.

Well… thinking about it logically… _maybe_ … staying in the living room would have been better than in the laboratory. Not because _the human had said it,_ of course: the living room was better ventilated and better heated. And slugging on a sofa would have been slightly more comfortable than slugging in a cold hard corner: it was a _scientific_ matter.

He reluctantly went to the sofa and sat on it: it _was_ quite comfortable. It even reminded him a bit of the one he had in his base back on Earth.

Unexpectedly, the human sat down on the sofa too, right next to him:

“Do you want me to keep you company? I can work tomorrow if you need...”

“NO!” Zim snapped, “I’ll be _fine!”_

The human kept looking at him with a worried expression. He wasn’t used to this kind of concern towards his well-being: all in one day, that human had saved his life, medicated his arm and, admittedly, lifted up his spirits a little bit. This was all so annoyingly _overwhelming!…_ though not exactly in a bad way.

 _But that’s the problem, right?,_ he thought to himself. _Humans are the enemy! They aren’t supposed to be… ‘pleasant’! Just tell this human off!_

“Human woman, your concern is...” he scrambled for words. He wanted to pick the rudest word he knew to conclude the sentence. But as he looked into her face, it was like his mouth physically refused to speak it. In the end, the word that it uttered was a _horrible:_ “… appreciated”.

_What did I just say?!_

“B-but I don’t need any of it! I can take care of myself!” he tried to correct himself. “A-and, uhm...”

_Take it all back! Now!_

“And your assistance today has been very...” he fiddled with his hands. Finally, he breathed out: “... helpful”.

_Insult her! INSULT HER NOW!_

“… insult, uh- Yes! My, insults, uh-” he looked at her: her big, stupid, _lovely eyes_ gazed back at him. He felt another one of those weird churns in his belly. He swallowed hard. Then, he concluded “… were undeserved”.

_WHAT ARE YOU DOING YOU SELF-TRAITOROUS-_

The human looked shocked at first. Then, she broke in a soft giggle:

“Is that your way of thanking and apologizing to me?” she asked.

“… maybe” Zim admitted, out of breath.

Without a warning, the human leaned forward and placed a small, gentle kiss on his forehead.

“Thank you” she said as she pulled back, and she smiled at him in such a sweet, stupidly happy way, that Zim felt his insides _melting._

Within him, he _begged_ that she’d just place her hands on his cheeks and kiss him again on the mouth, like she’d done the first night they’d met.

Disappointingly, she just placed her hand on his shoulder and told him:

“If you need anything, I’ll be upstairs. Good night”.

Zim followed her with his eyes as she got up from the couch, exited the room, and disappeared climbing the stairs to the upper floor.

He stayed for who knows how much time staring to the last point he’d seen her at. When he regained his motor _and_ mental capabilities, he noticed that he’d been staring into nothing with an open mouth.

He looked around him: outside was dark now. It was still relatively early in the evening, but he felt completely exhausted from all that he’d been through that day.

He turned the lights off, enabled the standby mode in his PAK, and awkwardly set himself under the blankets: he’d slept before, of course, but he’d never done it like a human before.

Except that time that human had ‘put him to bed’.

The thought of that human sent a shiver down his spine. He rolled over onto his right side, and he rubbed his forehead on the point she’d kissed.

Zim _wished_ he could be thinking about his failing mission, or his endangered position as an Invader, or anything else really, but all his brain seemed to be capable of was conjuring memories of the human _smiling at him,_ or _caressing him,_ or _kissing him._

Finally, standby mode kicked in, and he fell asleep to those thoughts.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wanna thank the person that suggested the MC offering Zim a schmoothy (sort of). They know who they are. <3


	8. A Biting Comeback

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After he's lowered his barriers, Driver rediscovers her attraction to the little greml- uh, alien, that's been living under her roof, but she still has something to get even on.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had a lot of fun with the hot parts on this one, ngl. ;-)

The next morning, Driver woke up in an especially good mood.

After she readied herself for the day, she climbed downstairs with quiet, careful steps.

She peeked in the living room: to her surprise, it wasn’t Zim who was sleeping on her sofa, but her pet cat, curled up in the exact place where she’d left him the evening before.

“Zim?” she called, but nobody answered.

The ground floor appeared to be empty, all the blinds still closed shut.

She looked at her cat peacefully snuggled up. Maybe he could still sense Zim's smell there. For some reason, he seemed to have taken an immediate liking to him.

The blankets she’d given Zim had been neatly folded and laid on one of the couch’s armrests. That had been uncharacteristically thoughtful of him. She imagined him struggling to fold those blankets many times bigger than him, and a smile escaped her lips.

Well, that was all rather adorable, but _where was Zim now?_

She turned and headed to the pendulum clock on the other side of the room: she arranged the hands to point at four hours and twenty minutes respectively, then turned a small lever on its right side: the pendulum slid to the left, and she entered the hidden passage that lead to the basement below.

A tinge of panic rose within her: what if Zim wasn’t actually in the basement? What if he’d left while she was sleeping? In that case, would she ever see him again? And how would she even explain that to her boss? She realized now, that leaving him in that state alone the night before had been rather reckless.

But as she climbed down the stair, she heard faint sounds coming from the laboratory.

And sure enough, there he was, focused again on repairing her ship with his neat, precise movements, like he’d always done in the days before: he wore protective glasses as he was using a blowtorch on a part of the engine, the very thing that had burned him the day before.

She let out a breath of relief. Then, she called him:

“Hey, Zim! Good morning!”

Zim’s antennae perked on his head in a motion of surprise; he turned the blowtorch off and turned his face up to look at her.

She smiled at him: he was always so expressive in his reactions.

“Oh. Good morning, human” he greeted her.

‘Good morning’? From _him?_ Hearing it felt so unnatural, it almost made her dizzy.

She took a few steps towards him, arms behind her back.

"Did you sleep well?" she asked.

Zim slowly removed the glasses, and left them hanging from his neck. He cleared his throat, then spoke as if he was carefully minding each word:

“So I did” he nodded. “I have to say, sleeping does feel rather… reinvigorating”.

“’Bet it’s the couch” she commented, “all the guys I invite to sleep on it say that the morning after”.

Zim looked at her with wide-opened eyes, and his expression contorted in a mixture of horror and disgust.

Unable to maintain her straight face, she burst into laughter: his expression had just been too comically exaggerated.

“Don’t worry, I’m joking!” she reassured him in between giggles, “You’re the first one to sleep there besides me and my cat”.

Zim’s horrified expression turned into a scowling one:

 _“Ha-ha. Very funny”_ he commented sarcastically, but she could feel there was no real anger or resentment in it.

Had she made a joke like that the previous days, he would have viciously attacked her for it. Instead, this morning he appeared to be so... calm and polite. Even his body language was more loose and less snappy.

So all that time, all she had to do to make him act nice to her was _talking to him?_ Communication really worked wonders. And life-threatening incidents involving fire, too.

She would have to make a note of that.

“Uhm, but seriously, uh...” she continued as she recollected herself: after their conversations from the day before, she was practically dying of curiosity about whatever was going on with him, his mission, and the Earth, possibly. But she was afraid that asking him too directly about it would make him close himself again. So, asking in an indirect way would be the best approach, she concluded.

“How do you… _feel_ this morning?” she asked.

Zim hesitated for a moment.

 _“I feel better, human”_ he answered again in that carefully measured way. As he did so, he averted his eyes from hers. Apparently, he still wasn’t able to completely opening up to her, despite the progress they'd made.

_Baby steps, remember. It’s always baby steps with him. And not just in a height-joke sense._

She remained quiet, hoping that he would elaborate more on his answer. Zim was apparently locked in an embarrassed silence behind the work table, his hands fidgeting with one another.

After a while, he unexpectedly spoke again:

“Human, I’ve been _thinking_ about it...” he muttered.

Her attention peaked again.

“Yes, Zim?” she asked. _What, what have you been thinking about?_

Zim scratched the back of his head as if he was uncertain or embarrassed about what he was about to say.

“Ehhh. You, uhmmm...” he stammered.

She stayed as still as possible, she even held her breath, as if any kind of movement on her part could potentially disturb his trail of speech.

Her heart pounded in her chest.

“You said… if I ever needed anything, I could always ask you, right?” he said, his eyes now meeting hers.

“Uh, yes. I do believe I said so” she confirmed. Where was he going with this?

“So if I asked you a question, you would answer it, yes?”

She raised one eyebrow. What kind of question was it?

“Yes, of course” she answered placidly.

“Okay. Well. _Strictly hypothetically speaking”_ he said, trying to force a casual tone, “if you ever lost something in space… how would you find it?” he asked.

Oh. So _this_ kind of question.

_Disappointing._

Wait… was this about… _the Earth?_

“It depends. Mainly on the dimensions of the object in question. Small things are practically impossible to find if you don’t know exactly where to look. How big is this thing that you lost?” she pried.

Zim cackled.

“Haha, _nooo!_ I didn’t lose _anythiiing!”_ he made an unconcerned gesture with his hand, “this is all a _hypothesis!”_

“I _was_ talking hypothetically” she lied.

“Oh. Well, the hypothetical thing that someone somewhere _(not me!)_ hypothetically lost is quite huge! Uhm, planet-sized, in fact” he explained.

_So this is about Earth. How can someone lose an entire freaking planet?!_

“Universal projector maps are able to detect almost all average planets and planetoids. Some of them have huge ranges. If they cannot find something, you probably just need to move them out of their range and try scanning those areas. They’re also quite common, aren’t they?” she was surprised that an expert engineer and space-traveler like Zim wouldn’t know about those.

“What if… Someone Somewhere tried using one, but it didn’t work? In any and all ways?”

Damn. She should have expected something trickier than that.

“Then I guess it comes down to how Someone Somewhere has lost this planet-sized thing”.

“Hypothetically speaking, right?” he made sure.

“Yes, hypothetically speaking” she patiently confirmed.

“Well, what if… Someone Somewhere… turned this planet-sized thing’s gravitational pull _sideways?_ And then that-”

“Wait, wait, what? Sideways? You mean with the gravity pulling from outside the planet-thing instead of within?”

“No, not inside out, _sideways._ From west to east.”

“How and why would one even do that?”

“All that’s not important right now” he dismissed her question. “Point is, what if that made the planet-sized thing turn so hard on itself that it created a spacial rift in its core and then the planet-sized thing collapsed on itself and then disappeared into the spacial rift without a trace left? Hypothetically.” Zim said all in one breath.

She couldn’t believe her ears. For one, Zim had a more than impressive ability with tongue-twisters: she had barely been able to keep up with his overly complicated, fast speech. And for two, the thing he’d just described was _literally insane._ Was Zim capable of doing such a thing? Him? Avid schmoothy-drinker Zim?

_Who was Zim, even?_

Still, she tried to answer that:

“Well… spacial drifts still lead somewhere. Couldn’t you simply trace where that spacial drift leads to?”

“What if the spacial drift disappeared with the planet-sized thing?” he asked again.

She poked her lips in a thoughtful expression.

"Tracking back a ruote that doesn't exist anymore..." was that what had been eating at Zim for all the past weeks?

So, he'd lost the entire planet he was supposed to conquer (the Earth, no less) through an untraceable space portal. Now she understood why he was so anxious about it: an entire planet under his responsibility, and he had managed to make it _disappear_ altogether.

Quite impressive, she had to say, but undoubtedly _a complete disaster_ from the perspective of his superiors.

She had her fair share of experience around space, but still had never heard of something like that ever happening. Was there even anyone who could know the solution to such a problem?

Suddenly, she got an idea.

"You know what, though… I think I know someone who may know the answer to that" she said as she snapped her finger.

"Really? _Who?"_ Zim asked, his antennae straightened on his head.

"Mister Krassmann! He knows everything there is to know about space and time! I bet he could at least provide some good advice!"

"Ooh" Zim touched his lips with his fingers in a thoughtful gesture. "And who is this... _Krass-man?"_

"Y... your employer, Zim. You talked to him less than a week ago".

"Oh, yes, yes, right" Zim answered nodding his head decisively. Something in that gesture made her think that he would soon forget about the Boss' name again.

"Well, can you contact him and ask?"

"Uh-" as she was about to reply, she paused.

She _could_ in fact contact him and ask, but... what if he actually had the answer to Zim's question? Then, he would probably leave right after his ship's fixing. That meant a week _at most._ Right now, now that she'd finally managed to crack his shell a little bit? That they had finally come back on good terms? No way, she needed more time! _Just a bit more!_

"Actually... I can't contact him right now" she finally said. "You see, he's always caught up in some dangerous job, so we have to limit contact to emergencies".

"But this _is_ an emergency! My mission is on the line!" Zim pleaded.

Already she was regretting her lie. But still, she doubled down on it:

"My job is on the line too, you know! I could be fired! And besides... you have no guarantee that he will be able answer".

Zim let out a frustrated grunt and crossed his arms.

"When can I speak to him then?" he asked impatient.

"In one week" she promptly answered. "He and I are supposed to meet on Ghjitif 89-r for a mission. I'll bring you along and you'll speak to him there."

Zim let out a resigned breath.

 _"Very well,_ I suppose. I have to repair my own ship anyway".

She nodded in agreement. Well, that _had_ worked out, it seemed. Still, she felt guilty about lying to him like that.

 _Forget guilty! He still tried to kill you! He doesn't deserve the courtesy of fairness! It's not a big deal anyway!,_ she assured herself, but that feeling of guilt persisted. 

To change the subject, she proposed:

"Hey, wanna have breakfast? I'm starving".

Zim checked the time on the digital clock in the corner of the work table.

"Yeah, sure. Let's go" he said.

"Come on then" she said, and with her head she gestured to the stairs behind her.

Zim appeared disoriented at that at first, probably because he'd consumed all previous breakfasts in the basement.

She was afraid he'd say no, but in the end he removed his protective glasses, placed them on the table and made his way towards her.

As he walked towards her, she said:

"You know, I'm very happy you are still working with us after all".

"... are you?" he asked, uncertain.

She nodded.

"That way we get to spend more time together" smiled at him. 

Zim tried to hide it by turning his head to one side and coughing, but he visibly blushed.

"Whatever. I guess so" he muttered.

Then, eyes low for the whole trip, he followed her up to the upper floor.

  
The following days played out very differently from those before.

Every day she and Zim would eat each meal together. During that time, they would actually entertain normal conversations together, mostly sharing info about themselves or their experiences.

Zim had been surprisingly talkative -at least more than she'd expected, and she'd found out more about him.

Despite how much time he'd spent on Earth (more than one year, apparently), the things he actually knew about it were mostly either imprecise or ridiculously wrong; for example one time, it'd taken her a full hour to convince him that earthlings did _not_ in fact breathe through their eyes.

If the incident at the bar or the... _actual armageddon_ he'd caused on Earth weren't proof enough, he would often indulge and take joy in chaotic, destructive behavior.

On the contrary, other things about him were so _banal,_ it was often like she was talking to a fellow human: he was very neat and clean and organised, even more so than her. He had a taste for pastries. He liked to shoot down moving targets with assault rifles. He was fond of the color purple. And other such mundane things.

If previously she'd had the impression that an old, grumpy troll was abusively occupying her basement, now it felt like a college roommate of her same age had just moved in for the new semester; at times, she almost felt like she was a normal girl again.

One thing she was bummed about, was that he never smiled, no matter how many times she tried to cheer him up. He never seemed to quite grasp her sense of humor, and he always appeared rather melancholic.

As for the state of their relationship, it technically didn't go beyond "amicable colleagues".

But she was trying to escalate things, even if subtly: whenever she could, she would throw in a flirty line at him, even though those didn't always land on him. When they were talking at the dining table, she would sometimes try to sneak a hand to grab his, and she often invited him to spend time with her on the upper floors of the house.

Zim gave mixed responses to all of this: he always dismissed her flirts (those that he managed to understand), and he would never accept her offers to spend time with her (he had much to do, he would say, especially because on the seventh day of his stay the parts for his ship's fixing finally arrived).

But at the same time, she could tell he was always flattered by her compliments, blushing and looking away from her, fidgeting with his hands or the edge of his tunic; and he practically had to force himself to refuse her invitations.

And whenever her hand would touch his, it would stiffen and twitch, but he would never draw it back.

She was sure that if she kept that up, things would soon escalate further, and sure enough, that happened on the fourth day after the scalding accident.

On that day, Zim finally finished repairing her ship, and when he went to bring her the news he found her working in the vegetable garden behind her house: she was picking up the lettuce that had ripen, collecting it in a basket, when she noticed him standing on the small wooden platform in front of the backdoor.

She was surprised, seeing him outside of the laboratory out of meal time.

“Oh, hey. What’s up?” she asked.

Zim placed his hands behind his back.

“Human, the fixes on your space ship have been completed, as part of our deal” he announced in a very professional-sounding tone, and he tilted himself on his feet.

“Oh, that’s great! Just let me finish here, and we will do a test flight” she said as she picked the basked and carried it from the garden over to the platform.

She placed it to the left side of the door, right next to Zim. He was watching her actions with a mix of curiosity and confusion.

“Why don’t you have robots do that for you?” he asked.

“I don’t mind manual labor” she replied. “And besides, I don’t like letting machines handle my food”.

“You use the microwave, the oven and the fridge” he pointed out, “those are all machines”.

“Cooking is different than _handling._ I consider myself a traditionalist, you know”.

“Teleporters and ray-guns are human traditions?” he retorted with a pinch of irony.

“Oh, _alright._ I am a _selective traditionalist._ Happy now?” she said as she took off her work gloves. Speaking of gloves…

“Hey, is your arm okay?” she asked.

Zim looked down on his right arm for a moment. According to what Zim had stated, it had taken a bit more than normal to heal (he had blamed her primitive remedies for that one, which she thought was actually a fair complaint).

But still, at least by human standards, it had healed at an extraordinary speed: just on the second day after the accident, it didn’t need any gauze anymore. Unfortunately, he didn't have any spare gloves of his own, so until now, he had been forced to use one of her own, much too-big gloves to work, as they waited for a proper replacement to arrive via mail.

“My arm is perfectly fine, human” he replied with a confident nod.

“Really? Can I see it?” she asked as she kneeled in front of him.

“Uh...” Zim seemed to be unsure, but when she moved her hands close to his arm, he held it out for her to grab it, almost on instinct.

She took his hand in hers, holding it in a similar fashion as she did back when he first got injured: the signs of the scalding were now barely visible on the skin's surface. Her right hand slowly trailed over them, and she could feel Zim tensing up at her touch.

“You Irkens are incredible. Already all healed after a few days” she commented.

“Of course! We are the most perfect beings in the universe, after all!” Zim stated, but his voice was lacking in the confidence he would have normally exhibited while bragging about his species.

_If just touching your arm does this to you, I wonder if…_

She used her left hand to spread his right one open, and she focused on it: looking at it up close, she noticed that were a couple of dark purple veins visible under the skin on the wrist; the surface on his palm was completely smooth, with no fingerprints.

She passed her thumb over his palm, and his fingers twitched.

“You know what’s strange? You only have three fingers, but you are so much better than me at handling objects. I’m actually a bit envious” she said and she shot her eyes right into his. Zim had been so carefully staring at her movements on his arm, that her sudden look made him make a little jump.

“Eh, don’t beat yourself over it, human! Fact is, we are so skillful on our own, that we don’t necessitate any more digits. That’s why you clumsy human have two extra!” he explained with a nervous smile on his face.

She smirked at that; slowly and gently, she turned his hand with its back up, and she examined his fingers: like those of many other alien species, they were three, and they lacked fingernails.

“Say, what do you call the second finger? Index or medium?” she asked.

“Well...” he was about to answer, but as he did so, she tried to intertwine her left hand with his right: it was a clumsy attempt, of course, as her hand was bigger than his, but she still managed to catch his fingers in the three spaces between her thumb and her ring finger; as she pressed down, her ring and pinkie finger closed on his hand.

As though he’d just touched something extremely hot, Zim quickly, energetically swept his hand free from her loose hold; the strength and velocity he used actually hurt her own hand a bit.

 _“What was that?!?”_ Zim shouted and he jumped back away from her.

“What was what?” she asked.

_“The THING!!! That you just DID!!!”_

“I don’t know what you’re talking about” she played dumb, “My hand just slipped”.

 _“You did it on purpose!”_ Zim hissed.

“Nooo... You're being paranoid, Zim” she said as she tried to make her voice sound as fake as possible.

Zim shot a rage-filled look at her, and the four mechanical legs erupted from his PAK and launched towards her; the sudden movement startled her backwards, and she landed on her lower back.

Zim had been so fast, she took a solid five seconds to realize what he’d just done: the four legs were firmly planted in the wooden floor around her; Zim was suspended right above her, staring down to her in an angry scowl: she very much felt like she’d just been locked inside a cage with a dangerous predator, and for a moment, a shiver of fear passed through her body.

 _“Don’t lie to me, human!”_ Zim shouted, _“You've been acting weird for days now! But I know exactly what your game is!”_

“My… game?”

Admittedly, she _had_ been toying a bit with him in the past few days. Now, she realized she’d grossly overestimated his naivety.

Zim flexed his metal legs, and got closer to her:

“You LIKE me, don’t you? Don’t you try to deny it, _human-worm-woman!_ The _Krass-man_ has told me all about it!”

What he said ignited a spark of anger within her.

 _“He WHAT?!_ What the HELL did he tell y-” she tried to ask him, but he interrupted her by drawing out the laser-gun on one of the upper legs and pointing it right under her chin.

“And now your _likeness_ has infected me! _ME! ZIM, infected by a horrible human disease!”_

“What... in the world are you talking about?” she asked him, utterly confused.

 _“GRRRRAHR, you!”_ Zim growled in frustration. _“Your alco-hol! Your filthy hands! Your putrid kisses!_ Have done something _to my PAK!”_ he accused her, lowering himself even closer.

“It’s the only explanation! Ever since then, my mind has been PLAGUED by those _disss-gusssting memories!_ I can’t get rid of them! I can’t even THINK without your dumb, ugly, pretty FACE showing up in MY brain! It’s like a brain virus! _In my brain!”_

...Oh...

So his problem was that... he was attracted to her?

“… Zim” she quietly spoke “that’s not how any of that works-”

 _“YES IT IS!”_ he shouted _“I SAID IT IS, AND SO IT DOES!”_

She closed her mouth: clearly, reasoning wasn’t an option whenever Zim was upset.

She wasn’t sure how exactly she was supposed to feel about all this: angry, maybe? Indignant and outraged that once again he was blaming her for something she wasn’t responsible for at all? Should she draw out the gun she’d been concealing for all the time of their cohabitation from under her shirt and _shoot him?_

But for whatever reason, she wasn’t feeling angry at all, and her urge to shoot him was reduced to an all time minimal.

 _Calm down. Think about it for a second,_ she urged herself. On one part, Zim _was_ right, after all: she _did_ still like him. Quite a lot, actually.

And maybe her actions _had_ intoxicated him, just not physically.

As she thought of that, she felt a surge of pity, and compassion, and _guilt_ for him: from what she understood, all his life he'd never had any experience in love or intimacy because of the Irken society he was born in: no wonder that he was having a hard time processing all of that. Coupled with what had happened with his mission, this must have all been an extremely stressing experience for him.

 _If you keep making excuses for him you’ll end up dead_ , her voice of reason tried to warn her; but as she looked up and met his big ruby eyes, another thought, born from a much more reckless, _primal_ part of her arose:

_He wants you as much as you want him. So what's stopping you?_

That _was_ right. And besides...

All this time, she’d let him insult her and boss her around without any resistance. He probably even thought he was _in charge,_ now that he had a deal with her Boss and that she was forced to play nice with him, _in her own house._ Even _the Boss himself_ had tried to insinuate that thought into him, apparently.

And, as sad as Zim's background was, she still hadn't _repaid_ him for what he'd done toher.

 _Well, that’s enough of that. I won’t let two aliens get away with bullying me,_ she decided.

She levered on her hands and slowly sat upright on the floor. Zim stared at her, still pointing the gun at her, eyes narrowed.

She tried to loosen her expression and she have Zim a soft, suave smile.

 _“Aw, Zim, Zim, Zim”_ she spoke in a mellow, persuasive voice, each time emphasizing his name more and more, _“if you wanted me this much, you should have just asked”._

"... Eh?" Zim breathed out; his confident, enraged expression fell, quite literally: his antennae dropped behind his head, and his mechanical legs loosened, lowering him pretty much at her face's level.

She reached to his face with her hands, and gently cupped his cheeks: Zims’ body became as stiff as a board, and he began cold-sweating.

"I-I don't... want... you" he murmured, but he opposed no resistance at her movements. It was like all of a sudden he was trapped in a sort of paralyzed panic.

She drew his face closer to hers, her lips puckering; Zim himself closed his eyes as she pulled him nearer, and he parted his lips.

When her mouth came in contact with his, she gently took his lower lip between her teeth, and then… bit down on it. Hard. So much so, that she tasted a faint trace of blood on her tongue.

Zim jerked his head backwards with pained, shrieking yelp:

“OWWW!! YOU BIT ME! _YOU BIT ME!!!_ What is WRONG with you, _you crazed APE?!”_ he shouted at her. A string of magenta-colored blood was dripping from his mouth down to his chin.

Still, she kept her hands firm on his cheeks; she pressed them down, so that she could move his face back in front of hers.

“That was for pointing a gun at me again” she explained, “and for leaving me to die on that bar, too. Now we’re even” she smirked at him.

He grabbed her wrists and thrashed.

“I did NOT leave you to d-” he tried to say, but she strengthened her grip on his cheeks, mushing his lips together and silencing him.

 _“This is the last time you threaten me. Got it?”_ she abruptly changed her tone into a colder, commanding one, fixing her eyes firmly into his: he was visibly caught off guard and intimidated by that.

“B-but-” he tried to protest. His feet were now touching the floor between the legs, and she was effectively looking down on him.

“Put. Those legs. Back. In.” she menacingly spelled out to him, her face inches away from his.

Zim kept his scared eyes wide open and fixated on hers; eventually, his mechanical legs retired back into his PAK with a series of reluctant mechanical motions.

When the plates on Zim’s PAK all closed, she let her grip on his cheeks loose, and placed her hands on his shoulders instead.

“There. You see, it’s easy, really. _If you’re good to me, I’ll be good to you...”_ she tried to place a hand under his chin, but he quickly slapped it away.

“Don’t touch me!” he growled; he rubbed his lip, then looked at the blood smeared on the back of his hand:

_“You drew BLOOD! How dare you make me spill my precious BLOOD!”_

“You were holding me at gun point. Again.”

“No I wasn’t!” he firmly denied, “You’re _crazy,_ woman! _CRAZY!”_

She chuckled.

“Yeah, a bit” she agreed. _Especially considering the type of men I’m into._ “But you know, if only you were more honest about your own feelings, you would enjoy life a lot more”.

“I DID enjoy my life!” Zim shrieked. _“I HAD a perfectly enjoyable life until YOU showed up!”_ he pointed his finger at her.

She didn’t answer to that; to be honest, all of those nonsensical accusations were getting pretty tiresome.

She crossed her legs, still sitting on the floor, a good five feet from Zim.

“I’m sorry I bit you, Zim. You scared me” she apologized. And that wasn’t even too far off from the truth.

Zim, pressed his fingers against the cut on his lip; he seemed to consider her words from a moment. Then, his expression turned into a scowl again:

“Yeah you better be! You’re gonna pay for this I swear!” he threatened her, but his pose was still somewhat on the defensive, his legs slightly bent and his right arm raised as to protect him from an eventual attack from her.

Using her hands, she scooped herself forward towards him.

“Fine. I’ll accept it. You can do whatever you want to me, Zim” she smiled at him as she rested her face on her hands.

Zim looked her up and down, distrustful.

“Stop playing with me! You’ll regret this, human! _Just you wait!”_ he hissed.

“I’m being very serious, Zim” she assured him.

_“I’m being VERY serious TOO!”_

“I’m ready whenever you want” she said as she pretended to check an imaginary watch on her wrist.

 _“Oh, you don’t wanna know what I’ll want to do whenever I’ll want to do it!”_ Zim shrieked, his voice even more acute than normal.

“Hmm-hmm” she nodded.

Then, she looked up at his lip: it was actually bleeding pretty badly, as another string of blood was reaching the base of his chin.

“Aw, I’m really really sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you that bad. Here...” she reached in a pocket in her jacket, and drew out a cloth-made handkerchief.

“I’m NOT letting you touch me again!” Zim shouted.

“I just wanna wipe you...” she tried to reach his lips with the handkerchief, and he tried to wrestle her arm away.

“I said no! ARRGH, _I HATE YOU!”_ he shouted, but she noticed that he wasn’t really using his full strength to fend her off. He wasn’t even using his PAK legs. Maybe she had truly managed to scared him? At least, maybe that meant he wasn’t going to attempt to murder her again.

Maybe.

Finally, the handkerchief reached his lips; surprisingly, Zim let her wipe the blood off; he still kept his arms up defensively and continued to scowl at her, though.

She observed the white fabric of the handkerchief turning to a faint pink.

“Even your blood is pretty...” she absentmindedly commented.

 _“Stop being a weirdo, human”_ he admonished her.

“I’m sorry, I can’t seem to help it around you” she apologized. She pressed the handkerchief down on the cut, and Zim flinched.

“Does it hurt that much?” she asked.

“Don’t pretend to care now” Zim growled at her.

“Should I kiss the pain away?” she proposed, and she leaned in towards him.

“Kis- _Keep that human nonsense to yourself!”_ Zim placed his hands on her shoulders and weakly pressed them.

“Aw, come on. I promise I won’t bite you” she caressed his right cheek with her free hand; she placed the other one behind his back and gently nudged him towards her.

 _“NO! I don’t want your stupid, dirty kisses!”_ Zim protested, but his legs were actually following the nudges of her arm, and his hands weren’t even trying to push her away.

“I-I’m warning you! Human-” Zim’s protests died in his throat as she planted a soft kiss on his lower lip, right on the ripped skin.

Then, she gently sucked on it: the taste of his blood flooded her mouth.

A shiver ran through Zim’s body, and his fingers dug into her shoulders; if he had fingernails, her shoulders would be bleeding too.

“… gross...” he mumbled.

Then, she pressed further, deepening her kiss, and used both her arms to hug him and pull him towards her.

Now that she was finally kissing again, she remembered why exactly she’d found him so irresistible on that first night he'd met him. How had she even got these many days without _this?_

A sort of fiery heat flared up in her guts: it was like all of a sudden she realized that all this time she’d been _starving._

Worked up into a frenzy, her kisses became faster and sloppier, as she pressed harder against his lips; her hands worked up and down on his back, from his shoulders, to his PAK, to his lower back.

Then, she slid her tongue into his mouth, and he heard him let out a muffled whimper: he probably felt overwhelmed under someone much bigger and stronger than him; and, as she had forgotten, his lip probably still hurt.

She loosened her grip on his back, drew back her tongue and tried to kiss him more softly; at that, Zim finally, actually started _responding_ to her kisses, albeit weakly. He even cupped her cheeks with his hands to hold her face in place.

The corners of her lips curled into a smile. It was so good to feel him _desiring_ her again, even though he was still deep in denial about that.

Their kisses progressively started to slow down, until their lips finally parted.

They looked at each other: they were both blushing, and sweating and panting.

Zim was still looking at her with a scowling expression; his eyes seemed teary, like he was on the verge of crying.

"Don't you prefer it when I'm _sweet_ to you, Zim?" she asked him between heavy breaths.

Zim frowned even more at that.

“Mark my word, human” he growled, _“I will never, NEVER forgive you for all of this”._

She smirked at him. Then, she affectionately petted his head.

All of this was a clear sign of good things to come, she was sure.

“Well” she murmured, “that also means you will never forget me, don’t it?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Many people describe Irken having claws, but I don't think they have those. The most compelling evidence is, if Zim had claws, he would be constantly using them. Plus, the aliens Irkens are based off are usually represented without nails altogether. What do you think?


	9. The Appointment on Ghjitif 89-r

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Zim and Driver head to totally not-full-of-criminals planet Ghjitif 89-r to ask Mister Krassmann a question that might determine the fate of Zim's whole mission (and also this story).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay, guys. Hope you like this chapter. Latter half is a bit plot-heavy, but I feel like I've put enough *ahem* meaty stuff in the first half.

_ Three days later, Driver and Zim prepared to meet Mister Krassmann on Ghjitif 89-r. _

After the human woke up, she spent about an hour packing clothes, tools, documents, weapons and other such things on her ship for the trip; Zim on the other hand had loaded his recently repaired Voot Cruiser inside her very ship, in a small cell where an emergency escape pod used to be. Then, they'd had a quick breakfast in the kitchen.

After the human locked all the doors and the windows in the house and activated its security system, they would have been good and ready to depart, but she decided to spend a full  _ fifteen minutes _ giving her cat a heartfelt, tearful goodbye, much to Zim's annoyance: she had scooped the animal up in her arms and then proceeded to hug it, and kiss it and shower it with the corniest, mushiest, disgustingest words of affection, telling it how much she loved it and how she would miss it, like it was her own baby-child that she was about to never seen again.

"If you'll miss it so much, why don't you just bring it along?" Zim asked; that would have at least cut that pathetic display short.

"No way! The depths of space are too dangerous for such a  _ cutie-patootie of a kitty! _ Aren't they?  _ Aren't they?" _ she asked the cat as she rubbed her nose against its; the little beast purred loudly in agreement and licked its master's face.

Zim cringed. Why were earthlings so obsessed with touching and with tongues and with touching each other with their tongues?

"Hey, Zim! Why don't you pet him too? Just once? Please?" the human pleaded as she lowered the cat on the floor in front of him.

Zim looked between her and the cat. Couldn't she see the obvious expression of  _ sheer repugnance _ on his face? But he knew he had no choice but playing along: if he didn't, the human could have spent  _ hour _ s trying to convince him otherwise.

Zim stroked the cat's head three times as fast as he could, as  _ hard _ as he could; the little animal, taken aback by the awesome strength of his movements, jerked its head back, ears lowered, and looked at him with a mix of confusion and discomfort.

The human giggled:

"Animals aren't your strong suit, are they?" she pointed out.

"No, they are not.  _ Now can we go?" _ he begged.

_ Thankfully, _ she nodded.

"Goodbye, Cat" she waved her hand to the it.

Despite that, the cat followed them as they headed to the passage behind the pendulum in the living room; when they entered it, though, it sat down in front of it, looking at them with a somewhat longing expression. It had probably learned to tell when its master was simply going to hang in the basement and then come back right after, from when she was leaving for a mission.

"Doesn't that little beast have a name? Humans usually name their pets" Zim noted as they climbed down the stairs.

"He's just Cat" she shrugged, "There aren't many other cats to mix him up with in space anyway".

Zim eyed her. Sometimes she would behave extra weird, even for a human. He wondered if the other humans had banished her because she didn't name her cat like the rest of them.

In any case, had it been up to  _ him, _ he could have made that cat fit for space in no time: all it needed was a few, little tweaks, just like he'd done with Peepi! Only in a less... destructive, uncontrollable, colossal way. Then, at the very least, they could save themselves those lamentable scenes each time they had to leave the house.

... except that didn't really matter, did it? He had his ship. He had a brand new shiny glove covering his right hand. Soon, he would have his monies. And, possibly, soon he would have the solution to the  _ Earth situation:  _ after this, he wasn't going to step into that house anymore.

_ Or _ see that human ever again.

He hadn't spent that much time with her or in her house, but for whatever reason, that thought appeared surreal to him, and stirred a vaguely unpleasant feeling inside of him.

But  _ because _ of its unpleasantness, he tried to suppress it: he was supposed to  _ like _ the thought of leaving that stinky house and that horrid human behind once and for all to finally concentrate on his mission _. _ And he  _ was _ going to like it, whether he... actually liked it or not.

They stepped into her ship, and then into the main control room, which was relatively spacious, measuring a good twenty steps in length, with two additional seats on each side of the pilot's.

The human sat in the middle, while Zim took the place to her left.

Then, she initiated the take-off procedure: she started the engines, and, by pressing a sequence of buttons, she opened the ceiling above them to the sky of her planet.

With the pull of a lever, the ship took off, emerging from the underground laboratory and hovering above the grass field in front of her house.

Finally, she launched it towards space, and they left the atmosphere of her small rented planet.

Zim looked down to the mini version of the Earth: from up there, he could see the cows and the chickens and the other animals she had mentioned owning. He thanked the Universe that she wasn't as attached to those other beasts as she was to the cat: the thought of having to pet goodbye each and every one of those smelly monsters made him want to  _ barf. _

After leaving the solar system in hyper-speed, she settled the ship in a much slower, placid pace. He had to admit, she handled all the controls with the ease and expertise of a veteran space-traveler; she had even been nonchalantly humming a quiet tune the whole time. The only other human he’d seen displaying comparable skills was- but immediately he repressed that dreaded three-letter name in the darkest recesses of his psyche: _ this _ woman-human was awful enough to think about  _ on her own. _

The human put the ship on auto-pilot; then, she turned to him with an enthusiastic voice:

“Wow, Zim! The ship runs even better than it did before! It works like it did when it was brand new! How did you manage that?”

Zim shrugged, holding up his chin in a conceited pose.

“Were you expecting less, human?” he bragged. “After all, I _have_ been officially declared the Most Incredible Irken Ever”.

The human let out a chuckle.

“After what you did on this ship, I don't have a hard time believing that”.

Zim smiled smugly and puffed his chest: if there was one thing this human ever did right, was recognizing his superiority.

“Have you ever been to Ghjitif 89-r, Zim?” she asked.

“I have not” he replied. He’d never even been in that part of the universe at all. “What is it like?”

“Hmmm… it’s small. And crowded. But also _quiet._ I personally think it's quite charming. I always meet there with the Boss before hempzin season. I think you'll like it".

Zim cocked an eyebrow at her.

"I doubt I'd ever like anything that you,  _ oddly-opinionated _ woman, would define 'charming'" he scoffed.

"Well, how about _ this?" _ the human turned to him with a smirk, and as she winked she pointed out: "I think _ you _ are pretty charming". 

Zim felt his cheeks flaring up, and he turned his face away from her: he felt he would never grow accustomed to that type of compliments, especially from  _ her. _

“Yeah, yeah, whatever" he mumbled. "Anyway, how far is it?”

“Oh, we’ll be there in about three hours, give or take”.

Zim frowned uncomfortably. He should have insisted on flying his own Voot, but the human had noted that flying his clearly Irken vehicle in plain sight would be too suspicious after the  _ bar accident. _ Back then, being stuck with her in an enclosed space with her for a few hours didn't seem like a big deal, but now that he was actually sitting next to her... at this point, using his ship would have been a risk worth taking. 

"What do you usually do on this ship to pass the time?" he asked her.

"Well, _ usually _ I-" the human abruptly interrupted her answer. Then, she continued in an unsure, reluctant tone: "do nothing. Of note".

Zim raised his antennae, suddenly curious. He knew the human was a liar, but that was the first time she'd betrayed it so blatantly.

"Why are you lying? Tell me the truth, human" he ordered.

"Oh, come on, you know what I meant. I listen to music, play games..." she dismissed him, but her tone still had an awkward tinge to it.

"Why are you still lying to me?" Zim narrowed his eyes at her, irritated.

"It's kinda... personal, you know? Look, it doesn't matter, because  _ this _ time around I have  _ you _ here with me" she said. "Can't we just take enjoyment in each other's company?" she asked in a clear attempt to derail the subject.

"No. No, we can't" he flatly replied. Or at least, _ he _ certainly couldn't.

Before he could press any further,  _ she _ asked him a question:

"Well, what do  _ you _ usually do when you're on a trip in your ship?"

"I... listen to music and play games" he found himself repeating her answer; and usually, he  _ also _ had to deal with Gir's shenanigans, but he was careful not to mention him to her again.

"See, Zim? _ I'm normal"  _ the human said.

"You're as far as one can possibly be from normal, human" Zim corrected her: as a matter of fact, she  _ was _ one of the least normal people he'd ever met.

The human giggled, nodding in agreement. And then, as if to own up to her abnormality, she posed him a totally unrelated, unexpected question:

"Hey, Zim? What are you going to do after Mister Krassmann answers your...  _ enigma?" _

Zim blinked, surprised at her sudden question.

"Eh... I'm going to focus on my next mission, of course!"

"Uhm. Sure. But, uh... what if... he can't answer it?" 

Zim looked at her, puzzled. He  _ had _ of course considered that possibility, and he absolutely dreaded that he might have to aimlessly wander through space again, looking for a solution.

But, where was the human going with this?

"What about it?" he asked her back.

"I... guess I'm just saying that... well, I  _ am  _ ninety percent sure he knows how to solve your problem, but... just in case he doesn't... just know that..." the human stammered in an unusually unsure, awkward fashion. It was as though she was struggling to pick the right words: she was always so, so careful with the way she conveyed her speech.

In the end, she took a deep breath, and summed up her thoughts in a very simple, short, and yet effective sentence:

"Just know that I'll be there to help you".

Normally, the support of a human would have meant less than nothing to him; and realistically speaking, he doubted she could do anything to help him if that case were to present. However, knowing that in that eventuality he would have someone to rely on was...  _ relieving. _ If anything, he wouldn't have to feel as lonely as he had during those first few weeks of  _ space-roaming. _

It also occurred to him that no one before had ever offered to help him in such a pressing, difficult issue: in Irken society, if one was unable to complete their mission those around them normally scorned them or took the opportunity to take up said mission for themselves and look good in front of the Tallest; that human, instead, had come to his assistance every single time he'd been in distress, whether he'd requested it or not, and without asking for anything in return.

Sure, he could write that off as mere human-typical sappiness and ingenuity, but he couldn't really deny how  _ comforting _ it was.

He looked down to his feet, at once embarrassed and comforted by her words.

"Hm. Yeah. Hm. Thanks." he murmured as he tugged at the edge of his tunic, hoping that she wouldn't actually hear him.

An awkward silence fell between them.

Zim wasn't looking at the human, but he could practically  _ feel _ that her eyes were focused on him.

And sure enough, after a short while the human called his attention back:

"Uhm, hey..." he heard the human tentatively say in a soft, quiet voice; and then he saw her left hand slowly, gently reach for the right armrest of his seat.

_ Oh-uh. _

He already knew what was coming.

He dared to turn and look at her and like he'd suspected she had that familiar nauseating,  _ desirous _ expression on her face.

"I know you said last time would be the last one, but... if you do find your answers we might really not see each other for a long time. Sooo..." her index finger tickled his arm, making him shiver.

He  _ had,  _ in fact, said that last time would be the last one. And he'd stated that with the utmost, sincerest, staunchest conviction.

But now that he was looking at her, he felt his resolve quaver under her gaze: the desire she felt for him transpired through her eyes, making her seem bigger and stronger than him than she already was in actuality, he felt like he was being  _ squashed _ under the weight of her stare.

And, most embarrassing thing of all, he could feel a similar type of desire arise within him directed back at her.

Zim sat still, paralyzed by his conflicting emotions.

_ Just say no. Just refuse her repulsive advances. How hard can it be?!  _ he tried to reprimand himself, but he deep down he realized refusing  _ was, _ in fact, pretty hard.  _ Painfully _ pretty hard.

...

... well... after all, he had already compromised himself pretty badly, so... what difference would one time more make at that point? Right?

Besides, this was  _ definitely _ destined to be  _ the _ last time. After that, had or hadn't the Krassmann known the answer to his problem, he would have flown off to never see her again anyway.

_ Maybe just... one more last time before I quit for good,  _ a sniveling voice pleaded inside of him.

Oh, how he _ hated _ that voice, how he hated this  _ feeling  _ that would present every time she would look at him that way: he could distinctly feel it  _ creeping _ inside his mind, his brain, his body, like a venomous serpent whose skin was soaked with an irritating  _ poison  _ that made everything it touched  _ inflamed _ and...  _ itchy. _

Oh, how he utterly  _ hated _ this human...

"ARRGH, alright, _ FINE!"  _ he finally gave in with a defeated, frustrated growl. He sharply stood up on his seat, then turned to her.

The human immediately turned her seat towards him, smiling with eager enthusiasm.  _ Ew. _

"BUT, your  _ filthy, slithering, grabby _ hands gotta be behind your back!" he ordered pointing at her  _ slimy, graceful, wretched  _ appendages.

The human giggled. But still, she obeyed, slowly drawing her arms behind her back.

"At your orders,  _ sir" _ she said in a seducing voice.

Zim felt his heart skip a beat at that. Even when she was doing what  _ he _ wanted, even without any touching him, her voice alone was enough to make him feel as though she'd just punched him right in the squeedily spooch. Maybe she was using ultrasounds...

_"And stop talking like that. It's_ _creepy"_ he hissed.

The human once again obeyed and kept quiet, a faint smile lingering on her lips. He really, _ really _ wished she didn't have a face.

He swallowed hard, and having gathered all his courage he cupped her cheeks with his hands and kissed her, eyes closed shut.

He felt her lips part under his push, smooth, and soft and  _ moist,  _ and his whole body quivered at the sensation, and it possibly felt even _ hotter _ and  _ itchier _ than before.

The human was kissing him back, but Zim tried his hardest to forget there was even another living being in that ship with him, he pretended instead to be touching a robot or (even better) a totally unconscious object.

Back when they had kissed in front of her vegetable-emergence grounds, he had sworn to himself he would have never done it ever again.

However, the next day a similarly horrible scene had played out. And then again, on the next day, this time _ twice. _ And on the day after  _ that _ one and even on the day after  _ this _ one.

Each time, he would swear off such disgusting acts, but then there would be one fatal moment, a mere fraction of second wherein their gazes would meet or their bodies would touch, and that awkward silence would fall between them. And after that, they'd inevitably start (he shuddered thinking about that stupid, revolting word)  _ making out _ again.

And why did he keep falling for it?

Well, he knew,  _ of course, _ that it was only an illusion created by his malfunctioning PAK, but, admittedly, mushing mouths together with that human felt...  _ good. _

It felt  _ thoroughly, viscerally, crushingly _ good.

He couldn't pinpoint exactly what kind of "good" it was. Truth to be told, he'd never experienced anything quite like it. The closest comparable sensations were maybe the sense of relief one felt when they satiated their appetite after a long, excruciating fast, or the thrilling, ecstatic feeling one would get during a triumphant, explosion-filled victory against their worst enemy, combined into one.

Not only that, every time he kissed her he felt so  _ confident and secure _ about himself, like nothing could ever go wrong, like all of his worries and problems were being flushed away, and all he could feel was a sense of content lightness and burning excitement.

But, of course, this  _ wasn't _ real. This wasn't  _ him.  _ This was,  _ in fact, _ everything that he  _ fundamentally loathed and wasn't:  _ gross, and soft, and sweet, and vulgar, and intimate, and...  _ animal-like. _

And he needed to constantly remind himself of that, lest he'd forget it.

His only solace was, he'd luckily found a way to make these _ 'making-out sesshes' _ slightly less humiliating for him: he'd managed to convince the human to keep her hands away from him. Not because he didn't like having them on his body -actually, for the exact opposite reason: the touch of her hands made him feel even  _ weirder _ than her mouth ever did.  _ And _ her mouth's effects  _ were _ pretty weird.

Moreover, this way he felt like he was more in control than he actually was:  _ he _ had his hands on her, but  _ she _ couldn't. Truth to be told, he was immensely surprised (and _ suspicious)  _ that the human had accommodated his request so easily.

Indeed this was a highly valuable victory for him, despite its minuscule size.

Now, as Zim kissed her, he firmly held her face still with his hands, probing and tasting at her lips. Occasionally, when he felt like she was getting a little too exuberant or _ teethy  _ (he still hadn't quite recovered from the  _ biting incident _ from a few days back) with her own kisses, he would press down on her cheeks in sign of reproach, and  _ usually _ she would settle down. This appeared to be one of such cases.

Now more confident, he tried sliding his tongue inside her mouth, imitating the same movements she'd previously used on him; he felt her shivering at that, and then she followed his movements obediently.

He should've felt elated, he supposed, knowing that she could be manipulated in the same way that he was by her, but at the end of it, he was still doing nothing but playing her game, wasn't he?

Everything was going relatively smoothly, but just as Zim was getting comfortable in his faux-controlling position (as comfortable as he could feel in such a  _ situation) _ , he felt a pair of unwelcome, _ human _ hands moving on his chest.

Immediately he broke their kiss, drawing his body back from her touch and holding her face away from his own by the cheeks:

“Hey, _I said no hands!”_ he shouted, indignant that she would break their preestablished deal. 

“Oh, _come onnn”_ she whined, her voice muffled by his hands squishing her cheeks, “Just this once! This might be the last time, right? So...” again, she tried to reach to him, but he swiftly grabbed her arms by the wrists and pushed them away.

“I said _no hands!_ Your mouth is gross enough on its own! _”_ Zim angrily growled as he crossed his arms on his chest.

The human briefly stared at him with a neutral, somewhat bored look. Then, all of a sudden, her expression changed to a  _ smirking _ one:

"Only mouth, uh?" her hands grabbed the edge of his tunic, and pulled it up to expose his shirt under it. "Does that mean I can kiss your belly?" she asked.

_ "NO YOU CAN'T KISS MY BELLY!!!"  _ Zim screamed as loud as he could, and he slapped her disgusting grabby hands off his tunic.  _ "What in the universe is wrong with you?!? Ugh, why do you always have to ruin everything?!"  _ he asked in a literally pain-filled voice: the image of her mouth kissing his  _ torso _ was now ingrained in his brain and he felt like it could give him an aneurysm at any moment.

The human grumbled in annoyance.

"Okay, _ geez. _ I was only _ joking. Mostly."  _ she pouted. And then she added, in a softer, calmer voice: "Come on, let's start from the top like nothing happened" she put her hands behind her back again, and leaned towards him.

_ "I think we're done here, dirt-ape" _ Zim hissed with hostility, eyes narrowed, and he let himself sink back in his seat, arms crossed in a disgruntled pose.

The human stared at him for a moment, then threw her hands in the air in a gesture of pure disbelief:

"What?! Just like that?! You're leaving me hanging like this?!" she protested.

"That's what you get for breaking your promises, you  _ disloyal _ earth-worm!" Zim retorted.

The human grumbled in frustration and disappointment. Then, she turned back to the ship's wheel in a slow, surrendered motion.

"You know, Zim, teasing people like you do is quite  _ cruel,  _ if not downright _ dangerous"  _ she reproached him, eyes focused on the open space in front of them, "what do you think would happen if you provoked someone less patient and less  _ courteous _ than me?"

"Provo-  _ I do NOT 'provoke' anyone!  _ YOU are the depraved one here!" Zim shouted back.

The human didn't bother turning to him; instead, she kept on driving, and burst out laughing when he uttered the word "depraved".

Zim narrowed his eyes at her. Then, he continued with his angry speech, hoping he would eventually get under her skin and get back at her for her betrayal:

"And by the way,  _ this REALLY was the LAST time!" _

"Yeah, sure it was" the human said in a tone overflowing with sarcasm.

_ "I am SERIOUS!" _

"You sure are."

"And I hated every second of it!"

"It sure shows".

Lying wasn't going to work with her, apparently. She was way too good at spotting it. The truth then, maybe...

_ "Well, and I SURE can't wait to open my PAK and erase all the horrible memories I have of you"  _ he finally growled at her. 

But in spite of his intentions, the human's smug smile persisted on her face; instead, she simply replied:

"We'll see about that." and then, out of nowhere, she asked him: "Hey, wanna listen to some music?"

The human pressed a button on the control panel and the ship's radio turned on, playing an anonymous, generic pop song from a planet unknown to him.

He was about to protest, but then he realized he didn't want to continue that conversation either: arguing with that human was  _ exhausting.  _ It was even worse than arguing with that other, three-letter-named human.

Besides, sitting still listening to music for the rest of the trip would be way better than kissing a human. Theoretically, at least.

Zim sighed. The abruptness with which the human would change subjects of conversation could be extremely disorienting.

"Yeah, why not" he conceded, his voice now calm and much quieter. "This is kind of... catchy".

The human smiled, and tapped her finger on the control panel to the beat of the song as the ship soared through space.

After three hours of travel they finally arrived on Ghjitif-89; they landed in a big parking lot for space vehicles, then headed towards the tavern where the appointment with the Krass-man was supposed to take place, which was apparently not too far from there.

The planet was not quite as bad as Zim thought it would be (which wasn't saying much anyway): its sky and air were of a vague yellow shade, though it wasn't exactly pollute: it was probably due instead to its dry, dusty, ochre-colored floor. Other than that, it was a standard pass-through planet: a planet travelers from different worlds would use to rest and buy food and supplies on, rather than inhabit.

Like the human had said, it was very small and crowded: the narrow streets of the town were overflowing with people going in all different directions, so much so that it was impossible to move one step without grazing or bumping into someone's shoulder (or, in Zim's case, legs); the buildings were short and dark, which additionally contributed to the place's oppressive atmosphere.

Despite that though, the people there weren't loud at all, no, on the contrary, they were extremely  _ quiet, _ and those who did talk, did so by whispering.

"Why is everyone so quiet?" Zim asked the human; he didn't mind the near-silence in itself, but the fact that everyone there was making an active effort not to be heard by the others made him extremely suspicious.

"Hmmm" the human leaned a bit down to him, speaking in a likewise quiet tone, "let's just say that everybody here has  _ something _ to hide".

Something to hide? Like what?

Indeed, every single individual there, no matter what species, looked pretty secretive. Moreover, they resembled each other for other reasons too: any of them had their backs bent and their faces pointed down, like they didn't want to make eye contact with each other, they kept their hands in their pockets, wore long capes, had scarred faces, and kept knives and clearly illegal firearms on their waists.

... Hey, wait a second-

_ "Everyone here is a criminal!" _ Zim exclaimed at the sudden realization.

"Zim! That's  _ rude!" _ the human put a finger in front of her mouth, "here we prefer the term  _ 'high-risk entrepreneurs'". _

"And what would the difference be, exactly?" Zim warily looked around him, fearing that anyone around him could jump him at any moment: he had heard of alien criminals trying to get their filthy hands on Irken technology to resell it and reuse it -and he wasn't exactly keen on someone from that bad crowd trying to grab _ his PAK. _

"You can relax, Zim. There is a truce thing going on here. No one is going to rob you or murder you or even curse at you. There are snipers on top of each building ready to shoot down any transgressor".

"What? Really?" Zim tried to spot them looking up at the building's roofs.

"Don't try to look for them, Zim" the human warned him, "they might think you wanna try something".

Zim averted his eyes and fixed his eyes down on the human's legs: now he understood why everyone there was looking down.

"Don't worry, Zim. It's totally safe here! It's kind of like home for me!" the human reassured him, "And besides, not everyone here is actually dangerous! What's a crime in one place is a regular occurrence in another! Think of diamond-forging, ritual cannibalism, flower-picking... _ interbreeding" _ she emphasized that last word, tilting her eyebrows at him with a smirk on her face.

Zim narrowed his eyes at her, irritated that she would use such a gross word to describe him. Or that she would put him on the same level as a  _ flower-picker _ of all things.

"Listen to me carefully, human" he growled threateningly, "You're NOT going to tell anything about us doing... THAT THING to the Krass-man, nor to any other living soul!  _ Or else!" _

"Oooh" she cooed " _ a secret relationship. _ I always wanted one! Ohhh, I feel like a teenager again..." she sighed in a dreamy tone.

Zim was about to protest that there was not a single  _ relationship _ going on between them, when the human continued in a more serious tone:

_ "Of course _ I won't tell anything, Zim. I don't like sharing private stuff, especially with the Boss. And speaking of that, remember to control your temper around him: he isn't as patient as  _ I _ am".

Zim wondered how much he should be trusting her on that. Maybe he would have to alter her memory after all, before he could safely erase his own in his PAK...

Her warning, though, that one did seem justified: now that he was so close to meeting him, he realized he didn't feel at all like meeting that...  _ freak.  _ He really, really wished they could have talked to him through a video call. Or maybe via mail.

At one point, the human took a turn to the right, and stopped in front of a tavern's main door: its sign, hanged over the door, and the menu, written on a display next to it, were written in what Zim recognized as Thwortian alphabet, which... wasn't  _ too _ bad if they were going to eat there.

The human proceeded to push a button next to the door, and it opened with the sound recording of a bell.

The interior of the restaurant was comparable to the rest of the town: everything, air and walls, of a vague yellow shade, crowded, and full of whispers. There were laser scanners in front of the door, which they passed with no issues. It was an establishment of an average size, with no more than twenty round tables, all full of people sat in front of them. Faint sound of pots clinking together could be heard from the kitchen at the opposite side of the room.

The human scanned the room, then, she pointed to a place in the furthest left corner with a quiet "Oh, there he is!".

Zim's eyes followed her pointed finger and he spotted him to, the shape-shifting Krass-man monster, cloaked in his human man form: he was sitting alone at the table, one leg rested over the other, intent on reading a menu like it was a newspaper. 

Zim couldn't help but feeling a shudder down his spine, even from the distance that separated them: that 'guy' had to be one of the creepiest creatures he'd ever encountered.

The human, on the other hand, seemed  _ enthusiastic _ to meet him: they headed to his table, and when they came close enough to his eye range, the Krass-man lifted his head up and his focused face lightened up in a welcoming smile, which possibly crept Zim even more.

The monster stood up and grabbed the human's hand with a vigorous shake. For one moment, Zim believed he was going to rip it away from its wrist.

"Hello, my dear! What a pleasure to see you again!"

"I'm glad to see you too! Alive  _ and _ well!" the human smiled back at him and then, they proceeded to  _ kiss _ each other's cheek.

Zim was a bit upset by that exchange. He'd never seen the human kiss anyone else (if he didn't count the cat).

He wasn't able to pinpoint the exact term with which to describe his sentiment towards that sight but it was a distinctly  _ unpleasant _ one. Maybe he should've expected something like that from a human, because human beings kissed all the time, but still... she was kissing a literal,  _ dangerous _ monster.... that wasn't himself!

After that, the Krass-man dreadfully turned his smile and hand to  _ him. _

Zim looked apprehensively at the human, as he had no intention whatsoever to touch him; but seeing her calm smile gave him the courage to shake the monster's hand. 

"Nice to meet you as well, Zim" the Krass-man greeted him.

Since Zim couldn't really reciprocate the sentiment, he simply smiled awkwardly and nodded at him. At first, he thought with the utmost terror that the Krass-man would want to kiss him on the cheek too, but eventually he thankfully let go of his hand, took a step back and invited them to sit at his table with a “Please, sit!”.

Zim and the human took seats in front of him. He wondered if talking to him from the adjacent table would have been considered rude. 

“So! How were your last weeks?” the Krass-man asked them.

“Oh, pretty normal, I guess” the human replied. “Everything’s fine at home. The usual routine. Oh! I have redacted all the commissioned birth _and_ death certificates! I’ve got them all loaded on the ship, ready to be shipped”.

“Most excellent! I expected no less from you!” he complimented her.

Zim blinked in surprise; that was probably the ‘work’ she would occasionally mention having to do back at home.

“You… are a State functionary?” Zim asked her.

“Hahaha, oh, no, no!” the human laughed. And then she added, whispering: “They weren’t exactly… _authentic_ documents”.

“Oh. Of course they weren’t”.

“How about you, Zim? How did your first job for us work out for you?” he then asked turned to him.

_... 'First'? _

“Er... _perfectly,_ of course!” Zim stated with as much confidence as he could muster.

“Perfectly indeed. The ship is good as new, if not _better!”_ the human echoed _“Blazingly_ so, if I might say”.

Zim shot a hostile look at her for that terrible,  _ distasteful _ pun. The Krass-man didn't catch on that, however, and praised him with the same polite passion he'd exhibited with the human: 

“Splendid! I knew I could count on you!”

“Yeah, yeah, I know, I'm the best” Zim waved his hand at him dismissively. “Now, where are my monies?”

The human side-eyed him in concern and reprimand; maybe she'd thought he'd sounded rude, but really, he wanted to cut that whole  _ encounter _ as short as possible. The Krass-man, though, was again impassible in front of his words:

“Oh, most assuredly. I have them right here” the Krass-man bent to pick something from under the table, and what he came up back holding in his hands was a brown, old-fashioned suitcase, that he and handed over to him.

“As per our deal. It was a pleasure doing business with you”.

Zim unlocked it and suspiciously peeked inside: he would have to count it more closely, but there were indeed monies inside and they did look like they were _ a lot, _ all in 500 banknotes, as far as he could see.

“Uh… these are 20,000 monies? In cash?” he'd never seen such a thing before, though maybe in the criminal sphere it was something quite normal. Wary of the other clients of the tavern, he sneaked the suitcase under the table, directly in front of his hanging legs.

“Oh, wow!” the human commented impressed, “I’m guessing your time on Egexol was fruitful”.

“Indeed! Everything went smoothly!”

“Isn’t… isn’t planet Egexol in a war zone right now?” Zim asked.

“It sure is!” the human confirmed.

“It has been for fifty Getts years this year!” the Krass-man nodded with.

“Which, is like, about ten Earth years. Not that impressive when you put it that way" the human clarified.

"Still, I miss smuggling away parts of nuclear reactors from one side to the other...” the human then recalled with a voice full of nostalgia.

“That was one of our first missions together, wasn’t it?" the Krass-man remembered. "Unfortunately, they have switched to neurotoxic gas and bioweapons of mass destruction now” .

“Yeah, but I’ve heard the market demand for nuclear weapons rise back up again in the following years!”

“I really hope so, my dear. I really hope so” the Krass-man said with a grave voice.

Zim looked from one to the other and back, incredulous: he had lived way many more years than those two had known each other, and yet the number of their experiences seemed to be comparable to his own.

The human and the Monster Krass-man surely had _ history _ together. They looked like they got along pretty well. Maybe they could even be described as  _ friends.  _ What an unlikely pair: a primate, and a terrifying shape-shifting abomination. Or maybe, not so unlikely: neither seemed to have a home planet to call their home. Maybe that's why they had teamed up as criminals. Maybe, if he was an outcast too, he too might grow desperate enough to seek companionship with different lifeforms. Might.

And sure, the Krass-man was a horrifying that might have killed her at any moment, but he could see why the human wouldn't mind his company: he had the outward appearance of a human; he was polite, just like she was. He was a good listener, like she was. And they were... sitting at a table, smiling at each other, making each other laugh, telling each other stories.

...Uhm.

He didn't know exactly why, but when those thoughts passed through his mind, he found himself to dislike that Krass-monster even more.

Consequently, he was happy when a Thwortian waitress came to ask their orders and interrupted their amiable conversation:

“May I take your order?” she asked, each of her three eyes focused on one of them.

The Krass-man invited the human to order first with a polite gesture of his hand and a smile. Oooh, how  _ pretentious. _ Letting someone order first wasn’t that big of a favor. The food was going to arrive at the same time for everyone anyway!

The human turned to the waitress:

“I’ll take a-”

“I’M going to take whatever THIS human is taking!!” Zim talked over her, raising and waving his arm to attract the waitress’ attention.

The human looked at him puzzled.

“Zim, are you sure? You-”

“Mind your business and order!” Zim hissed at her.

“Ooo… kay then. Make it two roasted Kass-yi-dors, then”.

“Make it three, please!” the Krass-man smiled raising up three fingers. “And I’ll also be adding one bottle of red wine and a bottle of water!"

Zim shot a cautious, but vicious look at him. Did he just  _ copy _ them in a pathetic attempt at feeling included? Was he… jealous, maybe that he and his ‘beloved human associate’ had spent the last two weeks together without him? 

“The Kass-yi-dor is certainly their strong dish this year. Excellent choice” the Krass-man commented.

_ "'ExCeLlEnT cHoIcE'. Puah! Why don't you order your own plate, demon!", _ Zim thought with scorn.

“Oh, I don’t know” the human giggled, “I only took it because it’s the least greasy thing on the menu!”

“Oh, I HATE grease!” Zim declared with a raised finger. “And knowing of our MUTUAL distaste for grease that WE” Zim gestured between the human and himself with his hands “SHARE, I decided to entrust upon _her_ my food-ordering!”

The human looked at him with that same puzzled look on her face. The Krass-man, however, had an  _ enragingly agreeable _ expression on him.

“I greatly dislike grease myself” he agreed.

Oh,  _ of course _ he would. Zim really, really wished he could somehow slap his face consequence-freely.

“I’m happy to see you two on much better terms. I get you two must have settled your differences and have shared a pleasurable time together as colleagues in the past couple of weeks” he continued.

“Ehhh. It was okay” the human answered laconically.

Zim turned to her, incredulous and indignant. ‘Ehhh’? ‘Okay’? It’s true that she had to hide their  _ nefarious misdeeds, _ but… she didn’t have to do it  _ that _ well.

Suddenly, the same waitress returned to their table and to bring them the bottles of water and wine and two glasses for each of them.

Zim looked at the drinks, realizing that he couldn’t drink either of them: water tasted awful to him, and nothing in the entire universe would have ever compelled him to drink alcohol ever again.

_ I bet he ordered these on purpose, _ he thought, full of resentment.

“Would you like some wine, my dear?” the Krass-man asked the human as he opened the bottle of wine.

“Yes, please” the human held out her wine glass.

The Krass-man poured the red liquid in her glass  _ and _ his own. As Zim saw that, he realized he couldn't have stood to be excluded further from their  _ table activities, _ and so against his better judgement,he held out his wine glass too.

“ZIM would like some _whi-ne_ too!” he requested and he shook the glass.

“Right away!” the Krass-man readily poured the wine inside it..

The human turned to him, concerned:

“Zim, are you sure? You don’t have to drink that, you know. I’m pretty sure they serve other stuff that you might like. Alcohol-free! Like schmoot-”

“ZiM does NOT drink such infantile drinks!” he firmly denied, turned more to the Krass-man than to the human, really.

"Oh, I sure do love _ alco-hol!" _ he declared, and to prove himself, he swiftly brought his glass to his mouth and chugged a good half of the wine.

That turned out to be a very, very bad idea, because that beverage only vaguely resembled the wine he’d had in that gloomy space bar: not fuzzy nor sweet at all, _ this _ wine tasted dry, and bitter, and the hotness of the alcohol hurt his unaccustomed throat, making his eyes water.

He pulled away from his glass and tried to appear enthusiastic of the horrible, disgusting wine in-between loud coughs:

_“ Cough!_ Del _ -cough!-  _ deli-cough!- _ DELICIOUS! COUGH!” _

The human looked worriedly between him and the Krass-man.

“Aaahh, too bad" the Krass-man commented. "I was hoping we could take our first sips in a toast to our well-executed jobs.”

“You _-cough!-_ g-go ahead, I… _cough!-_ had mine on the way here” Zim lied keeping one hand in front of his mouth, trying to suffocate his coughing. He felt like if he drank any more of that wine, his mouth would dry to death.

“Very well” the Krass-man lifted his glass.

The human raised her own, they gently clinked them together, and took a sip each.

Zim oversaw the scene full with impotent rage. Why couldn’t they have toasted with the water? It tasted horrible, but still better than that disgusting wine! At least, that wouldn’t have sent him in a coughing fit! Was that part of the Krass-man's plan too?!

“Ah, speaking of which!” the human remembered, “Zim here wanted to ask you a question, Mister Krassmann”.

“Eh? What? I did?" Zim confusedly asked.

“The, uhm… hypothesis about losing track of a planet in pure nothing, Zim?” the human reminded him.

“Oh. Oh, yeah, right” the monster had infuriated him so much, he'd forgotten the reason why he’d agreed to dine with those two in the first place: to ask the monster for… _help._

If he wasn’t keen on that idea before, he sure as all heck wasn’t now.

“By all means, go ahead! I only hope I'll be able to provide an answer!” the Krass-man invited him to speak with a kind smile and Zim could practically _feel_ the condescension behind it.

That monster’s jealously towards the human was simply _laughable._ _Pure – absolute -_ _comedy!_ But he couldn’t let his pride keep him from advancing the mission: that had to take the absolute priority.

Still, swallowing his pride wasn’t exactly something Zim could do on a whim.

He gave a sly, quick look at the human next to him; she smiled at him and tilted her head a little bit in an encouraging gesture.

Zim felt reassured at that, although he thought how better he would have felt if maybe he was one little bit physically closer to her. Or maybe. If he could  _ tug at her jacket. _ Or even, who knows,  _ hold her hand, _ just to throw an example out there, or. Something.

And so, Zim drew a deep breath and started telling the Krass-man everything that’d happened with the Earth, how it had collapsed on itself and disappeared in thin air as a result of a change in its gravitational poles. Only, of course, he framed it as a hypothetical scenario, leaving out the Earth’s name entirely, much like he'd done with the human.

The Krass-man listened to him with the utmost interest (at least so it seemed), hands intertwined, his head occasionally nodding in understanding.

After Zim finished, the Krass-man stayed silent for a few unnerving seconds, seemingly pondering on the whole ordeal.

Caressing his fake white mustache, he quietly asked:

"The planet-like object collapses on itself, correct?"

"Yes"

"And it disappears somewhere that is untraceable by space-scanning maps?"

"Er... yes?" why was he asking that again? Had he even listened to him?

The Krass-man reclined on his chair, he crossed his legs again, and then finally spoke in a solemn tone:

"Believe it or not, I've already already witnessed the same phenomenon once in my life".

Both Zim and the human looked at him with flabbergasted expressions, eyes wide and mouths agape:

_ "WHAT?!" _ they exclaimed in unison (though Zim did so in a considerably louder voice).

_ "Are you joking?" _ the human asked.

"Yeah, no way!" Zim remarked, "ZiM's feats are one of a kind!"

"I'm telling the truth" the Krass-man reassured them. "It happened a couple of millennia ago. I was there to witness it."

"Well??? Speak! Where did the planet go?!?" Zim urged him, putting his hands on the table and stretching to get closer to his face (but not _ too _ close).

"Somewhere where space-scanning maps can't track, of course" he rather cryptically replied.

"So, like, in another dimension?" the human guessed.

"No, no!" Zim corrected her,"It's the Florpuses, that lead to other dimensions!! They're totally easily-manageable stuff!! Nothing to be compared to  _ this!!! _ "

"Can I ask where that happened, Mister Krassmann?" the human inquired.

"Forget about that!" Zim interrupted her, "What's important is, _ how did you trace back that planet?!" _

"Oh, I didn't trace it back. I've never seen that planet ever since."

Already disappointment was settling in Zim, but the Krass-man continued, in an even quieter voice:

_ "However" _ and he leaned towards them, "if my guess is correct, if we _ were _ to exclude alternate dimensions and universes, there is only one place where it could have gone. And that is, an  _ intra-spacial sack". _

"What's that-" the human started, but Zim shouted over her:

_ "OF COURSE! AN INTRA-SPACIAL SACK! Why didn't I think about it?! _ But still! That doesn't tell me how I could get there..."

"Intra-spacial sacks are, as the names suggests, sacks of spaces situated at once between  _ and _ out of the space we ourselves navigate in. Not exactly in another dimension, but rather on another plane of existence than our own. They are trickier to reach than other dimensions or universes, which are accessible through Florpuses and wormholes respectively" the Krass-man explained to her.

"Traveling to an intra-spacial sack is rare and is usually an accident, as it was in my case. However, though such a phenomenon isn't the first one in an absolute sense, you, Zim, are to my knowledge the first person to ever physically cause one. And as such, you have proven that this is a phenomenon that can be potentially recreated on a will. Meaning that..." the Krass-man clapped his hands together and concluded his speech as if what he was saying was the most obvious thing in the world:

"... all you need to do to reach said intra-spacial sack, is to harness the phenomenon that lead to the planet's disappearance in the first place".

"Hey... hey, wait a second... I think I got it _! I already had the solution all along! I'll just REPLICATE the rift!"  _ Zim excitedly exclaimed at his new realization, "I only need it to be less destructive! Less uncontrollable! Less colossal!"

"Wait a second, Zim!" the human interceded, "Are you saying you're going to make another planet vanish to track back yours?"

"Of course not! I'll just built a machine that does that!"

"How will you replicate the gravitational pull of a whole, giant planet in one, small machine?"

"Simple! I'll put a small pocket dimension at the center of the machine and build a tiny replica of a planet inside of it, complete with its own gravitational pull!"

"But wouldn't a tiny rock only hold a very, very, _ very infinitesimal _ magnetic field?" the human noted.

"Ah! Silly human!" Zim giggled at her naivete, "The rock is only tiny because you are looking at it! From the perspective of, let's say, a subatomic particle, it'll be massive! Massive like a planet! That's why it'll have the magnetic pull of one!"

The human looked at him in completely and utter confusion and disorientation.

"Zim, that... that doesn't make any sense! At all! Physics doesn't work that way!"

"YES IT DOES, you disbelieving woman!"

"Indeed, it does!" the Krass-man remarked, nodding energetically. "Haven't you ever seen the finale of Men in Black, my dear?"

"The- What?  _ What?! _ You've seen that movie?!? But how-"

"It's perfect! PERFEEECT!!!" Zim shouted as he jumped standing up right on his seat, fists up. "And after I've learnt how to move between different planes of existence, the spacial scanners will be able to trace the Ear- I MEAN, no! The hypothetical planet!"

The human, who'd been doubting his plan all the while, finally seemed to come to her senses, and reflected upon the implications of it:

"No one has that kind of technology... so... no one will be able to follow us..."

"Exactly!" We'll be as untraceable as the lost planet" the Krass-man added.

"... able to disappear at any time, in thin air..." the human mumbled to herself, an excited smile starting to appear on her face "And if we manage to hop from one sack to the other, we might save ourselves miles and miles of travel, and run off from any pursuer!"

"Not to mention! If the ancient legends are to be trusted, innumerable treasures still lie hidden in the intra-spacial sacks!"

Zim hadn't quite paid attention to what exactly the other two were saying, but he still could hear the excitement in their voices and joined in:

_ "Yes, yes, yes! It's all coming together!!!  _ All I need now is the materials for the construction and a suitable laboratory..."

"I'll help provide them!" the Krass-man enthusiastically volunteered.

"Me too! We will both help you Zim! Oh this is  _ crazy, guys!!!"  _ the human exulted with an ecstatic voice. 

"YES!!! I WILL TAKE MY MISSION BACK!!! INVADER!!! ZIM!!! IS!!! BACK!!! BUAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!" Zim shouted and laughed maniacally as loud as he could, and because he was keeping his eyes closed, he didn't notice the human and the shape-shifter exchanging a two triumphant, wicked grins, that only really differed from his own in volume.

And because of his closed eyes, Zim also didn't notice the suspicious, incredulous stares of the other clients of the tavern, nor the angry approaching of the waitress, carrying their three plates. He would have laughed for a lot longer too, hadn't she interrupted him:

"WILL YOU CUT THAT OUT?!" she shouted even more loudly than him, her three angry eyes shooting fire at him, "I don't want the roof snipers to shoot inside my tavern!  _ For the fourth time today! Shut up or I'll throw you out!" _

Zim was about to shout back at her that  _ she _ should shut up, lest he'd shoot each of her eyes with his lasers for daring to interrupt his boastful laugh, but the human picked him up holding him from under his underarms and re-deposited him on his seat.

"Excuse him, ma'am" the human apologized, "he's new  _ and _ easily excitable", and the only thing that kept him from threatening her too with laser was the fact that as she spoke she started petting his head: that limited his rage-filled outburst to a low growl.

_ "Good"  _ the waitress spat, she placed a plate of fuming roasted Kass-yi-dor in front of each of them, and left.

"Don't take it personally, Zim" the Krass-man whispered to him "Quite impressive, though! I believe that for those ten seconds you were the loudest living being on this planet".

"I didn't know you had such a beautiful evil laugh, Zim" the human remarked in a quiet voice.

Zim cleared his throat: he hadn't laughed evilly in a very long time, and his throat had grown unused to it. Oh, how liberating it had felt, even if it'd been cut short.

"Of course! I spent decades perfecting it!" Zim explained, and he started digging into his lunch with fork and knife.

The human and the Krass-man too started eating; while the latter was quietly focused on his meal, the woman quietly whispered to Zim once again:

"You know, I was very happy to hear you laugh again".

Zim tilted an eyebrow at that odd statement.

"What's it to you if  _ I _ laugh?" he asked.

The human threw a furtive look at the Krass-man, as if to check if he wasn't looking. Then, she bent over to him, whispering straight into his ear:

_ "Hearing you laugh makes me wanna kiss you even more". _

Those words, combined with her breath tickling his inner ear, set his whole body on fire.

He looked down, hoping that no one would notice his darkened cheeks.

_ "Can you please not do that while I'm eating?!"  _ he hissed as quiet as possible.

The human let out a soft, cute chuckle and she whispered back to him:

"Alright, _ partner in crime". _


	10. Awkward Departure

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Driver and Zim get ready to depart and enact their plan, but Mister Krassmann seems to have misread their relationship -wait, are they even in one?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this is more of a set up for the next events- after all this time without an update. I hope you'll appreciate it anyway. :-)

"A compressor model n-453h" Zim dictated.

"Com-pre-ssor" the Driver wrote down.

"A one ton magnet. Preferably, already cut in five parts".

"One... tonnn... five... parts".

"And also, five cathodic pseudo-blasting peromorphic conveyors"

"Uhhh... yeah, I got it" she nodded as she wrote down an approximation of what she thought she heard. "Never heard of 'em, what do they look like?" she asked him.

"Here" he slid the blueprints closer to her on the small table they were both sitting at: a machine resembling a space capsule was drawn on them, and he pointed at a sort of tube-cables running from its top to the bottom, "they convey the magnetic energy from the magnets to the gravitational accelerators and back" he explained.

"Ahhh, yes. That's about what I imagined. Say, why don't you add some spikes on the top? Maybe shaped like horns? Or a crown?" she suggested.

"What for?" Zim asked.

"To intimidate whoever we find on the other side" she smirked.

"Ooh, good idea, human!" Zim smiled back at her; he pulled the sheets of paper back towards him and applied the due changes with a pencil.

"I think we can use a regular, small spaceship as the shell to cut down time and cost" she reflected as she read through the now completed list, "and compressors like that are quite common, but where are we going to find a one ton magnet and the... pseudo... morphic things?"

"Oh, I can assure you there is a market for both of those items" Mister Krassmann intervened approaching her from behind. "How about we check Tiyo's space market? I'm sure they'll have what we are looking for there".

"Good!" Zim exclaimed, "and, what about the equipment for the construction?" he then asked him intertwining his fingers.

"I have a suggestion for that also. You see, I happen to be the owner of a secret laboratory on a small, deserted planet. No one has used it in quite a long time so I'm afraid it'll be a little dusty, but otherwise the equipment is up to date and more than sufficient to get the job done".

 _"Hehehe,_ everything is going so _perfect!"_ Zim giggled rubbing his hands together. " _So close to success!_ Oh, I can already see it!" he gloated. "Aaah, I gotta say, it's nice to have some evil henchmen of my own again!"

Mister Krassmann and she exchanged a perplexed look.

"I beg your pardon?" he asked.

"Yeah, Zim, if anyone's the henchman here that's you" she pointed out.

Zim fired her a furiously outraged look.

"How DARE you-" he started, but Krassmann intervened before he could get out any more of his undoubtedly soon-to-be loud outburst:

"Now, now, _no one_ is a henchman on this operation. And _no one_ is a boss either. This is a _partnership._ I'd like you to think of all the three of us as _collaborators_ on an _equal field._ Is that agreed upon?" he spoke with a mellifluous voice, exalting all the words indicating 'collaboration' and 'equality' as much as he could.

"Sounds peachy to me" she nodded in agreement.

Zim on the contrary sulkily crossed his arms.

 _"I_ should be the boss here..." he mumbled.

"Oh, _should you?"_ she questioned him sardonically, and then she added, in a softer voice: "I thought you _liked_ taking orders from me". Under the table, she gently nudged his foot with her own; at her touch, Zim's legs shot up to his chest, and he growled at her with a mix of annoyance and embarrassment.

"Turn down the banter, you two" Mister Krassmann jokingly reprimanded them, "you'll have plenty of time for that on your way to the market. Ah, yes! About that, my dear" he then addressed her specifically, "I would like to briefly speak to you of something. In private. Out of this ship's preferably. We need to fix a couple of work-related questions. A matter of minutes, really. If that's okay with you, Zim, of course".

Surprisingly, Zim made no protests to that; instead, he replied with a placid:

"Sure. Go ahead", accompanied by a wave of his hand.

"I'll come in a second" she smiled at Mister Krassmann, who bowed a little, tilted his hat with his hand, turned around and walked out the small kitchen, headed towards the ship's exit.

When the sound of his steps faded and Zim was sure he wouldn't be heard, he turned to her and spat in a decisively non-placid way:

"What's he want with you now?"

"Dunno" she shrugged, "maybe he wants his share of making out. It would be awkward to do in front of you".

As expected, Zim looked at her with widened eyes, disgusted and horrified.

"You're just messing with me, aren't you?" he asked, looking uncertain and apprehensive.

She got up from her chair, leaned down towards him and planted a kiss on his forehead.

"Quite perceptive today, are we?" she giggled.

Zim squeaked at that, and wiped the spot she'd just kissed.

"Be right back, henchman" she smirked as she turned around to follow mister Krassmann.

"I hope you don't come back, _ever!"_ he growled behind her back, and she giggled yet again.

 _Seriously,_ could he get any cuter? His jealousy towards her was so, _so_ apparent, and he wasn't even remotely aware of it! Seeing him all bashful made her feel all giddy and mushy inside. Whatever it was that Mister Krassmann wanted to discuss with her, she hoped it would be something very brief so that she could go back to the most adorable alien she'd ever known as soon as possible. And to be truthful, she already had a strong hunch of what that would turn out to be...

She pressed a button next to the exit door: it slid open, and a flight of stairs extended under her ship to the floor of the immense parking lot it was parked in. Mister Krassmann was waiting for her a few feet from the stair's bottom, back turned to her, hands joined behind it, and he was whistling a low tune.

"What did you want to tell me, Boss?" she asked as she neared behind his back.

"Ah, there you are, my dear" he said as he turned around to face her, "I wanted to quickly discuss with you about tour yearly Hempzin-Season Operation".

_Figured._

"I hereby announce that you are uplifted from your delivery duty for this year. You are going to accompany Zim to the marketplace to fetch the parts needed for the machine instead".

"Oh!" she exclaimed, though not _completely_ surprised, "Are you sure? Are you going to carry out the deliveries by yourself? Will you make it in time?"

"Don't you worry about that! We already completed the most _strenuous_ part yesterday, when we loaded the cargo. I'll be taking our _quick ship,_ so it won't mean too much of a delay. And as for the reason why, well, Zim doesn't exactly seem to me like the most patient fellow. I didn't want to upset him by making him wait for us to carry all of our duties".

"Heh, yeah he can get a little... hysterical" she giggled "Good call".

So that meant that she was going to be alone with Zim for an entire trip? This couldn't have possibly be more _perfect!_ It would have given her so many opportunities to escalate their relationship even further! Sure, Zim's adversity to intimacy and openness was so severe it could be described as a _literal allergic syndrome,_ but they'd made so much progress! And who knows, maybe if they were stuck in such a confined space for days she might actually have a chance at… _getting serious,_ so to speak...

"I must say, it seems to me like things are going pretty well with him" Mister Krassmann brought her back from her reverie, "If you allow me to say, he seems to be pretty taken by you".

"Haha! Is he?" she asked, her cheeks blushing, "I mean- he doesn't hide his emotions very well, I suppose…" Oh, how good it felt to have a third person confirm it. It made her really feel like in all but name they were an actual, recognizable couple.

"You really did an excellent job on him so far! Which is why I wanted to encourage you to maintain your conduct on this next trip".

It took her a few seconds to process what he'd just said to her. And as she did so, her smile gradually faded away from her lips, as well as the warm, tipsy sensation she'd felt inside up till then.

"... job? What job?" she asked.

"Ah-" a rare occurrence, Mister Krassmann briefly found himself not knowing immediately what to reply to someone. Understandable that he would be so surprised, since miscalculating people's reactions was to him just as rare. He tried to keep himself smiley and jovial, but the result was rather awkward:

"Ah, you know, the- don't you remember the agreement we made back in my car? That you would keep an eye on him, ensuring he would work for us?"

Oh! … that... had completely slipped from her mind, somehow. But, yes, now that he mentioned it, she clearly remembered having agreed to that.

"Well, but I didn't think that was a... 'job', sir" she weakly replied.

"My apologies, my dear. I have might have gotten my _vocabulary_ mixed up" he quickly recovered his confidence, "it was more of a question of _offering him an incentive to collaborate with us._ Yes, I believe that was the term I used" he nodded at the memory.

That phrase made her heart _thud_ in her chest.

"… you mean like a prostitute?" she murmured.

Once again, her words completely took him aback, even more so than the first time.

"A PR- a _prostitute?!"_ he exclaimed in an offended tone, _"Oh NO_ , not at all! That's not at all what I _meant!_ I was simply referring to our _usual, respectable_ practice of _ingratiating_ new collaborators and clients!".

 _Ingratiating-_ that conversation was making her so uncomfortable, she almost felt like barfing. So she smiled awkwardly, attempting to end it right there:

"No, no, it's okay! I get it!" she reassured him, "I overreacted! My fault! It's all right".

"My _Driver,_ please," he reached for her hands and held them up in his own.

"You know I care about you, don't?" he pleaded, and everything from his expression to his voice seemed sincere. She herself had no doubt it was.

"Yes… me too" she sighed, and she was being completely truthful too.

"I just wanted to make sure your… will wasn't faltering". "My will to what?"

"This operation could be the gate to the life we've always strived for! If we play our cards well, we'll be _unstoppable!_ I just wanted to remind you, as your _elder and mentor,_ not to let your emotions derail your focus!"

They looked at each other in the eye without saying anything for a few moments. His eyes looked pleading and full of concern, but they also looked distinctly _inhuman_ to her despite the rest of his appearance.

She didn't know what exactly he could see in her own eyes, but she hoped it wasn't her deep discomfort.

She cleared her throat, and tried to add a certain edge to her voice:

"If you mean I might forget the _money,_ then I haven't. I _never_ do. I might be young, but I'm still a _professional._ I'll escort Zim to the market. I'll make sure he builds the machine. And I'll make sure he'll let _us_ use the machine. _He_ 'll get his Earth, and _we_ 'll get our monies. Everyone will be happy."

He looked clearly elated at her words and was about to speak, when she continued:

" _However,_ please don't address what's between me and Zim ever again. That's… _my department,_ alright?"

He looked at her for a moment with what looked to her like _uncertainty._ But then, he smiled his jovial smile again, making her wonder if said uncertainty had actually really crossed his eyes.

"I shan't. I _swear_ so. I'll trust you thoroughly in this" he squeezed her hands, and let them go.

"Thanks. And thanks for your concern."

He nodded his head at her; then, his hand searched the left inside pocket of his jacket.

He handed over her its content: a small piece of paper. As she inspected it, she found a set of keys wrapped inside of it. And on the interior of the paper itself, there were numbers and letters handwritten with ink.

"Those are the keys and the coordinates for the laboratory I've mentioned. Make sure you're not followed nor seen on the way there" he smiled.

"Sure" she smiled back. "Is that all?"

"I believe so. Well then, I'll be on my way. Bid Zim goodbye for me. I'll catch up to you as soon as possible. Have a good trip and good luck" he held out his hand, and she shook it.

"Good luck to you too" she said.

After the handshake, Mister Krassmann turned around and walked away without turning back, as he usually did.

Now that he wasn't looking, she felt comfortable exhaling the deep, _rage-filled_ breath she'd been holding so far.

Just how… how _dare_ he imply her affection towards Zim was all about the money?! And like it had been all his own idea too! How simply _infuriating!_ And how embarrassing. And to say, she'd gotten away from her parents just to escape that kind of awkwardness!

 _B_ _esides,_ after all that talk of 'equal-partner-companion-radery', he'd talked of Zim like he was… nothing more than the target of a _scam!_

She turned around back up the stairs with heavy, angry steps. Whatever. He could think about them whatever he wanted to think. Their relationship _was_ sincere. _Of course it was!_ For one, it had started when money wasn't even involved. _And,_ as of now they were deeply attracted to each other. There was a great feeling between them. Everything was going absolutely great!

However, as she climbed the stairs back into her ship, she realized that that mixture of shame and anger wasn't fading at all despite all her self-reassurances.

… to be perfectly fair… their relationship had only started because Zim was dead drunk at the moment. And not even a day after that, they had both thought in some measure of killing each other. And after that, she practically had had to _force_ him into intimacy. _And…_

… at one point, even if only partially, money _had_ become the reason why she'd kept on seeing Zim, hadn't it?

And what about of the fact that she'd lied to him to keep him near her? The definition for that… was...

"… 'scam'" she concluded without even realizing she was speaking.

She abruptly stopped walking halfway the corridor in her ship. Suddenly, all that shame and anger she'd reserved for her Boss was directed _inwards._

And looking at the control room at the end of the corridor, where Zim was now sitting, she suddenly found herself not wanting to have to interact with him anymore.

Meanwhile, Zim was admiring the blueprints of his finished project. Nearly two months of the most dreadful turmoil, only for it to be resolved in one-night-worth of work! The answer had been so simple to figure out too once he applied himself! His anxious behavior from before now seemed so senselessly silly! But in the end, all that mattered was that his _amazing genius_ had finally bore its usual fruitful… genius… _fruits!_

With all his problems so close to being resolved, he wondered if he might contact the Almighty Tallest to give them the good news that his mission could finally be resumed. But then, he concluded that he would have appeared much, _much cooler_ had he had his spatial-sack-jumping machine to show off. Oh, the _faces_ they would make seeing that! They were going to be _so, so proud_ of him! He couldn't wait to see them again, a sentiment that they, no doubt, reciprocated!

But first, if he wanted to look well in front of the Tallest, he needed to actually get rid of said problems. Two of which, were just now talking outside the ship, probably _p_ _lotting_ against him. How hard the life of an Invader was! Everyone was always, _constantly_ trying to bring his awesomeness down! Or, in _this_ case... to exploit it.

He scoffed, thinking back to the corny speech that the _Krass-monster-thing_ had given them about being 'partners'. Did they really think he was that much of a gullible pushover? That he couldn't see past their act? Why, seeing through other people, _especially_ of species different than his, was exactly what his job as an Invader entailed! And as he knew well, none of them could _ever_ be trusted under _any_ circumstance: the Krass-man's monstrosity, 'hidden' behind his appearance of an old, kind man, was so laughably _blatant!_ And as for the girl-human and her disgusting, insignificant, sweet, soft, warm, comforting _effusion_ … well, uh… let's not… think about that now

The point was, he was not going to be _nobody's_ 'henchman'! On the contrary, he was gonna flip the script on them, exploiting them until he had the machine in his hands, and then, he would keep it all to himself: as if he would ever leave Irken-made technology available for use to a bunch of nasty alien criminals! Still, as easy as they were to trick, he had to be careful: right then, it would have been good to know whatever they were talking about that required his absence. Without being seen, of course. And he knew just what to do...

Moving quickly, he jumped down the chair and went from the tiny kitchen in the back of the ship to the control room in the front. He got on the pilot seat and turned the control panel on.

How foolish had it been of them to let him repair the ship unsupervised! Though he couldn't start up the engines without the key, he now knew the code to start up the monitors, thus giving him access to the outer cameras: he pressed the buttons that turned the windshield of the ship into a display, and he opened the program for the cameras. The screen-turned-windshielf displayed eight different cam recordings, aligned in two groups. And there they were, talking in the parking lot in an image on the bottom left, recorded from the front of the ship. Good: from there, they couldn't see him operating the control panel.

Zim selected the image, which enlarged to occupy the entire screen; the visual quality was relatively high, but unfortunately he couldn't see but the back of the human, and worse of all, they were too distant from the microphones to hear what they were saying: even when he turned the volume all the way up, all he could hear was a low, chattering rubbish, undecipherable except for the odd, short word. _Moreover,_ the ship's program lacked a lip-reading program! _Oh, curse you, you outdated alien technology!_

Still, he tried to follow the scene as well as he could, nearing his ear to the speaker: at first, they seemed to be talking rather normally, smiling and laughing and all of that disgusting, _slushy_ junk, until, strangely, it appeared like the… like the Krass-man was disoriented by whatever the human had said.

He didn't know what he was saying exactly, but he was clearly stammering. What could the human have possibly said to throw off Mister Perfect-monster?

The conversation carried on like that for a couple more exchanges, until apparently the human spoke an 'Upsetting Thing Number 2', at which the Krass-man made an appalled expression, exclaiming the only longer word Zim managed to hear: _'pro-stee-tute'._

He vaguely remembered having heard it a couple of times back on Earth, but didn't remember what it meant. Later he would have to investigate it, because it seemed rather important to the discussion.

After that, the Krass-man's facial expression changed to a _pathetically_ pleading one. Out of left field, the monster grabbed the human's hands and looked right into her eyes. Zim felt his heart practically _stopping._ He gawked at the screen, completely appalled: was he… was he doing what Zim thought he was doing?

The human and the monster talked more quietly for a while, holding each other's hands like that. In the end, the Krass-man smiled at her in apparent relief: they had probably resolved whatever unrest the human had lifted up.

Zim would have _killed_ to know what the human's facial expressions were. Was she mad at the Krass-man? Oh, he so, _so_ hoped so, but… what if… it was something else?

Zim was seriously considering stepping out of the ship to see for himself, when the two shook their hands, parting on seemingly amicable terms -though not amicable enough to kiss each other's cheeks again, and the whole great _Everything_ for that.

The Krass-man walked away from the ship, while the human dashed back to the ship turning around and out of the camera's reach so quickly that Zim couldn't quite see her face.

Zim hastily turned off the windshield-screen and changed his seat from the pilot's to the left one, trying to assume a casual pose. He heard the ship's main entrance's door sliding open and closed again, and the human's steps walking down the corridor towards him.

Dying from the curiosity, he peeked from behind the chair to look at her, and all his hopes were confirmed: the Krass-man might have departed with a smile, but on the human's face was the darkest expression he'd ever seen on her.

He felt a rush of relief: phew, there was nothing to worry about after all! … what was he worried about, again? When she caught a glimpse of his gaze, she averted her eyes, pointing them to the pilot seat next to him instead.

She threw herself on the pilot seat, put on her safety belt and began starting up the ship, operating the controls with aggressive, snappy movements, without saying a word _and_ without even looking at him.

Wow, whatever they'd talked about had put her in a very, _very_ bad mood.

"Eh... is... everything okay?" he tried asking.

"Hm?" she seemed to snap out of a sort of angry trance, and threw him a quick look before going back to the controls. "Yeah, sure" she blatantly lied, "why?"

"Nothing! Uh... What did you and the Krass-boss talk about?"

"Job stuff" she replied, careful not to make eye contact with him.

"Are you sure you didn't talk about... me, perhaps?" he tried to frame the question as a joke, but the human didn't fall for that:

"No. Not at all" she spoke in a bored, flat tone.

He was probably not going to get anything out of the human, at least for now. So instead, he tried to change the subject:

"Where are we going?"

"To Tiyo's market, to get the parts for the machine. And after that, to a laboratory at these coordinates" she said and she handed him a piece of paper.

Upon inspection, he noticed the code written on it: from the looks of it, he didn't know the part of the universe it referred to.

"On that note, please fasten your seat belt" she added, and he followed her advice.

They left Ghjitif 89-r's yellow-tinted surface, headed to this 'Tee-yo's market-place'.

Only a few minutes had passed, but already the atmosphere felt so strange without the human's usual cheerfulness and chattiness. He doubted it would last more than a couple of hours, but a break from her nauseating sweet-ery had been in order for a while now. Finally, some time for him to _rest_ from her disgusting human affection!

But before he could immerse himself into that blissful, calm silence, he was still curious to gather one particular information.

"Uuhh... say, human: I have a question. Note that it's completely, _utterly unrelated_ to what you and the Krass-man were talking about!"

The human turned to him with a tired expression.

"What is a pro-stee-tute?" he asked.

The human stared at him for several seconds in a neutral, unreadable face.

As the silence carried on, he started to feel rather uncomfortable. Was that such a bad word to say? Or maybe it was such a common word (at least on Earth), that she expected him to know it?

In the end, she answered, but as it turned out, she would have been much more merciful by not breaking that awkward silence:

"It's an organ that male humans have up their butts. And if they don't have it touched by a professional doctor once a year, they just, bam, drop dead".

Zim felt like that sentence literally punched him in the face.

"WHAT?! YUCK!" he cowered in his seat, "Aaahhh, now you've made me think of that! Why?! I feel dirty just from that! How are you _monkeys_ even real?!"

"Sorry. Still, is it okay if I shower first?" she asked him, and set the ship on auto-pilot.

"Keep an eye out for cops and bounty hunters and do NOT touch the controls, okay?" she recommended. Then, she opened a drawer under the control panel, drawing out an ancient-looking Earth videogame console.

"You can play with this in the meantime" she said handing it to him.

And with that, all depressed and gloomy-looking, she dragged her feet in the back of the ship, disappearing in the small bathroom just next to the kitchen.

Zim looked down on the ridiculously prehistoric console. Maybe a little stupid game was just what he needed to get his mind off that horrible, _horrible_ image the human had implanted inside his brain (as if all the _other ones_ weren't enough!).

And well, even though he would have never wanted to experience that first-hand, at least in the end he had discovered what it was that the Krass-man had said that had upset the human so darn much.


	11. (not an actual chapter)

So uhm first of all I wanted to thank everyone who supported me so far, this is the first fanfiction I've ever posted so I was really nervous about sharing it in the first place!

And secondly, well, if you follow this fic regularly you've probably noticed that the pace at which I release new chapters has slowed down a fair bit, and to be honest a big part is the feedback I've been receiving for it has been pretty erratic and irregular lately.

I don't want to sound entitled or whiny, and I don't expect this fic to be popular at all since I'm writing for what is pretty much a niche genre, but I really wanted a confirmation of how many pople are still following it, what your opinion of the developments unfolding is, etcetera.

I realize this probably sounds as a bunch of rambling but here's the main point of this text:

I realize that the way the internet is, interaction between artist and audience is getting more and more... inexistent, pretty much. But if you do like my fic and if you are following it please be more vocal about it. Reading comments and feedback is a very big part of the fun I get from writing this in the first place.

(Disclaimer before I sound TOO pathetic: I've seen the kudos, hits, bookmarks and subscriptions rise up. I know y'all are out there somewhere :') )

I don't want to force people into doing anything than they don't want to, of course, but if you can every so often take a moment to leave even the smallest response on what I post, it's going to be greatly appreciated.

So yeah tldr: local ao3 trash writer begs her audience (if she has one) to leave comments as currency for her writing because she is very insecure and is afraid she is screaming into the Void instead of sharing her work with someone else, and also she is very bored without engaging with an audience.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> btw I love you all and on my part I'll try posting faster from now own. Chapter 11 is on its way. bye


	12. The Lighthouse (Part 1)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Zim and Driver have an argument regarding their 'relationship', but it's cut short when their ship is caught in a mysterious space phenomenon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had to split this chapter into two. Hope you guys like suspence. [insert Robert Pattinson joke here]

Contrary to Zim's certainty that the human's bad mood would only last a couple of hours at most, it didn’t seem to improve at all during the whole day.

In fact, it possibly only got _worse:_ after she got out of the shower, she sat back on the pilot seat, fetched a crossword magazine out of a drawer under the panel control, stuck in her auricles a pair of earphones attached to an outdated Earth music player, and proceeded to scribble furiously on the paper without ever raising her eyes or uttering a word.

She wouldn't even let lunchtime interrupt her mute, scribbling isolation: at which point, she mechanically got up from her seat, went to the kitchen in the back, fixed herself a sandwich, and then sat back at her seat just like before, with the magazine and the earphones and all. Only this time, she was munching on a sandwich. Zim soon followed suit, preparing his own food for the first time in weeks.

The human was so different from how she usually was, she might as well have been a whole different person: sluggish, sulking, taciturn, unresponsive. And above all, she didn't seem at all interested in him.

As weirded out by all of that as he was, Zim figured she evidently wanted to be left alone. Which worked great for him, actually! It was so, _so_ nice to have some time free from her constant need for attention for once!

At first, at least. But then, as he approached the seventh hour of non-stop playing the game she'd given to him, its addictive effect wore down, and Zim became very, _very_ bored: as it turned out, the ship was practical and simple but didn't offer much entertainment.

As a result, his attention shifted to the human, and as he focused back on her, her perpetual pouting started getting on his nerves. _Seriously,_ how long was she going to sulk in front of him because of something that _someone else_ had done? 

Finally, in a desperate attempt not to die of boredom, he tried to get a conversation going:

"You know, human, this old game isn't too bad!" he said holding out the console in front of her.

"Yeah?" she asked, eyes still pointed at the magazine, hand still scribbling.

"The pocke-monster-abominations are quite ugly, but the battles are kind of fun!" he nodded.

"Uh-uh" she answered again with that same flat, bored tone.

"I chose the fire-pig as the leader of my team"

"I prefer grass types"

"Hah! You wouldn't stand a chance against my team then!" he gloated, and then, as he tapped his finger on the screen, he added: "I equipped five pigeons on all the other slots!"

"I wouldn't stand a chance at all, then" she agreed. Maybe she didn't hear the sound of his finger tapping the screen through her earphones, because even that didn't make her raise her head.

"Well, don't feel to bad about it. I'm pretty good at this game, it seems. _Look,_ I just finished _utterly humiliating_ the sixth gym master on the map!"

He was sure that that "Look!" would have made her at least look up, but instead, she remained focused on her own game and simply replied:

"It happens when you play eight hours straight"

"It was only seven, actually!"

"Good for you, Zim".

Zim lowered the console, disappointed by the human's lackluster reaction. He stared at her for a bit, but she seemed to have already forgotten their conversation. He doubted she'd even paid any attention at all to it. In the end, he turned off the console, and put it back in the drawer she'd got it from. 

He was sure she would have gladly talked about something she herself had showed him: she was always so eager to expose him to the old, useless junk she'd brought from Earth. But maybe she just wasn't in the mood for talking about video games. Maybe it would go better with a different subject:

“So, where are we going exactly this time?

“It’s a place called Tiyo” she answered, her behavior unchanged.

He assumed she would expand on that, but she remained silent way longer than expected: she was probably not going to talk more than necessary, unless he pushed for it.

“How far are we?” he asked.

“It’s about two days from where we are now”

“Do you have a map to show me?”

“Yeah, sure” she said, finally taking her head out of the magazine: she pressed a series of buttons on the control panel, and on the windshield-screen appeared a very rough, blue-colored map; a white, moving dot represented their current position, while their destination was marked by a still, red dot; the route they were on was represented by an irregular, dotted line. But hey, something was _wrong_ about it...

“Hey, wait a minute!” Zim exclaimed, pointing at the screen, “We could save one whole day if we just steered in a straight line!”

“I know that. But I'm not taking any main routes. I'm trying to maintain a _low profile”_

“Why?”

The human finally decided to look at him directly; she plucked one of the earphones out to better hear him, and explained, with a pinch more verbosity than before:

“Well, after the... _bar incident,_ there are probably still many people looking out for us in this area. Plus, an Irken-human couple doesn’t exactly pass unobserved"

"But this is the longer way! It will take triple the time!"

"Don't you have patience on Irk?" she asked him, "Or did you ditch it along with talking quietly and being cautious?"

"Umpf! It’s you who are incautious, human! Everyone knows it's the _secondary routes_ that are more dangerous than the main ones! Who knows what lurks out there, in the _uncharted depths of space?"_ he admonished her with an ominous tone.

"Look, _relax._ I know what I'm doing" she retorted, laid-back as ever, "I've been doing this for _years._ I have a map _and_ a radar. Trust me, it's way safer this way. Do you think they call me 'Driver' for nothing?"

"Is... is that your name? 'Driver'?"

"...uh?" the human looked extremely surprised at his question.

"I never told you that? All this time? Really?"

"Ah! So you _do_ have a name! There I thought you had no name, like your 'Cat'!" Zim snickered.

"But that's not my real name eith-"

"Well, _Driver-human,_ maybe we wouldn’t be in this situation if you hadn’t made that bar explode in the first place!”

“That _vile dog_ of a blob had it coming" she stated with a growl, "And besides, setting stuff on fire is fun” and as she added that, her voice softened, a small grin appearing on her lips, as if she was looking back to a pleasant memory.

Shortly after though, that smile faded too, she placed the earphone back into her ear and continued scribbling on the crossword magazine.

To her credit, the precise, confident way in which she had shot that horrible blob-creature and made explode his bar had been rather... _cool._

 _Very_ cool, even.

It might have sounded ridiculous to compare shooting a gun to handling a mere pen, but the Driver-human's expression as she was focused on the crosswords was pretty similar to the one she'd displayed that day: her eyes were attentive, and concentrated, and serious and _cold._ If he didn't know her and saw her like that, he would have probably mistaken her for a soldier.

As he stared at her, his gaze slowly moved up to the top of her head, and he noticed how the lights on the ship's ceiling reflected on her hair, making it look shiny and way lighter than it was; he was never too fond of _fur,_ but admittedly, hers looked soft, and well-groomed, and _silk-like_ in the way it fell down on her shoulders.

From there, his eyes trailed over the rest of her body: she looked relaxed, back rested on the seat's back, one leg crossed over the other, one hand holding the magazine, the other scribbling on it. If there was one good thing humans had going on for them, it was their _height,_ and the proportions between their limbs and their torsos often accentuated it, contrary to most Irkens. And hers were no exception. Especially her _legs._ Just now, he noticed how long they really were, at least compared to _him:_ stretched out, they were almost as long as his height. They probably contributed greatly to the general aura of _elegance_ that she gave off. 

Zim felt his body going again through that weird _heating-up reaction_ , as well as the strong impulse to pass a hand over the entire length of one of her legs.

He managed, with great effort, to repress the latter in the darkest recesses of his consciousness that he could find, but not the former.

Zim fiddled uncomfortably with his hands, and swung his legs back and forth in the air. He tried thinking of something else, anything else, but he found nothing that could keep his attention away from her. He also thought of simply looking away from her, but found himself incapable of doing it: he was completely transfixed by her sight.

Why, oh, just why wasn't she _looking at him?_ Whenever he felt that way, she would immediately notice, and her touch would usually calm that awfully hot, _itchy_ state of his.

This couldn't be _just_ about what had happened that morning, right? What did he have to do with it anyway? He'd done nothing wrong to herl! They'd barely even talked to each other that day! And she had _never_ withheld her effusions this long! 

Maybe then, she _was_ doing this on purpose. Maybe this was one of her weird _mind-games,_ where she did something out of the ordinary in order to provoke a reaction in him. Like when she would pick up an object and place it in his sight, waiting for him to ask her what it was. Or like when she would sometimes place a hand close to one of his own, expecting him to reach and grab it.

So by ignoring him and giving him the cold shoulder, maybe she was actually trying to get him to try harder and pry for a reaction from her. 

Zim clenched his fists; he really, _really_ didn't want to give in and bend to her ridiculous demands, but at that moment he felt as though his desire to touch her was going to _kill_ him if went unsatisfied, thus overshadowing whatever humiliation he might have felt from doing just that. 

Gathering all his courage, he cleared his throat and asked her as casually as possible:

“Can I look at the crosswords you’re doing?”

“Hmm? I thought you were enjoying Pokémon" she pointed out without lifting her head.

“I've been playing it all day. I'm tired of it" he explained, "Why, I can’t watch?”

“… no, sure. Just don’t spoil the answers for me” she finally allowed with a somewhat uncertain voice.

Pressing a button on one of the armrests, Zim detached his chair from its place and slid closer to her; he looked at what she was writing, and noticed that the alphabet she was using wasn't the Earth one he knew.

"What language is this?"

"It's Thwartian" she shrugged. "It's the most common one in this galaxy".

"Oh, I see" he nodded, "Isn't it weird that everybody writes their own language but then we all speak the same one?", he tried asking as a diversion while he slowly leaned towards her arm.

"I try not to think about it. It's pretty weird, though" she agreed; and she didn't seem to notice when his head touched her arm.

So far so good.

From so up close, he could smell the flowery, fresh fragrance of the soap she'd just used in the shower, and he took in a deep sniff of it with his eyes closed (oh she always smelled _so good),_ careful not to make a sound with his breathing.

Then, he slowly raised his trembling hand, and placed it on the arm she was holding the magazine with; he wasn't quite used to touching others gently, so the motion appeared quite awkward, hesitant, and a bit rough, but in the end, he managed to stroke it, twice.

This time, the human stopped with her writing to look down at him. Their faces were rather close, and for a while they stared into each other's eyes without saying anything.

Now _that_ was the familiar situation that Zim had sought to trigger; and the human had played right into his scheme.

He couldn't help feeling a just hint of satisfied pride at that: the human might have thought she was so _smooth,_ that she knew him _oh_ so well, but at the end of the day _she_ was the one who'd fallen madly in love with _him!_ And t otally _not_ the other way around, like _she_ thought! And as such, she could be easily induced to dance in the palm of his hand! Dance like a _meat-puppet!_

But enough with the internal bragging. He had that thing he viscerally hated doing to concentrate on.

Zim stretched up towards her, slowly closed his eyes, and positioned his lips into the optimal kissing stance, until they were touched by her... fingers. Pushing his face away.

“What are you trying to do, Zim?” the human asked.

Zim immediately opened his eyes.

For a moment, he just stared at her, flabbergasted by her reaction.

The human drew back her hand; for some reason she looked somewhat confused too.

Had her _disadvantaged_ little ape brain just... straight up removed the last or so month with him? Could that _happen?_ It _did_ sound like something that could happen to a human...

But then, after that first moment of complete and utter _panic,_ he realized that she had to still be playing her 'hard to catch' game, as the humans called it, and he broke in a nervous giggle.

“Haha, come on, human, stop playing dumb. You've had your fun and all, but your silly act can't fool possibly ZiM's amazing mind for too long!"

Zim got up on his knee on his chair, and gestured at her to come forward.

"Now come here and do your usual gross thing. And remember" he added lifting his index finger and shaking it in a 'no-no' gesture, "no hands. Or this time I _will_ shoot them with my lasers". 

“Oh, uhm, yeah Zim. About that...” the Driver-human pulled the earphones out of her ears by their wires. She looked rather... sorry. And her tone, too, sounded apologetic.

"… no” she said.

_... No?!?_

“… no... _what?”_ he asked.

“Well, I mean, uh...” she started stammering.

She paused for a moment to put the music player and the magazine back into their drawer; then, she turned to him once again, and talked as if she was handling a very serious subject:

“I've been _thinking_ recently, Zim, about this… thing, going on between us, this, uhhh… _this mess._ Yeah, ‘mess’, I think, it’s the more apt word for it. This whole mess going on between us, and I’ve concluded that...” she scratched the back of her head and averted her eyes from his, as though she couldn’t handle looking at him “… we’ve _rushed_ into this really fast, don’t you think? It is pretty crazy, how many bases we burnt without even knowing each other! So, uhm… so maybe it’s best if we… if we stop… doing… stuff… for… now”.

Zim felt as though the whole ship had been pull from under his feet, leaving him to weightlessly float in the middle of space.

 _“… you mean you don’t want to kiss me anymore?!”_ he asked, completely astounded and horrified.

“It’s not that I don’t w-, I mean, uh” the human still dared not to look at him in the eyes, and she started tapping her right foot on the floor as to release the tension that that discussion was causing her.

"Yes” she concluded, “I suppose I… do mean that”.

Zim was a complete loss of words. He saw the prospect of having the human in front of him for the days to come and not being able to kiss her, and already it made his guts _ache._

“Don’t-don’t take it bad though!” the human pleaded with him, raising her eyes to meet his, “I’m just saying that we need to take some time and think about it! Let’s wait at least until after the mission, ok? After all, we are working together right now. It's probably best if we leave emotions out of our job don't you think?”

“No- _no, human”_ Zim shook his head, and gave out a series of hysterical giggles, “You don’t understand. Have you forgotten my current PAK condition? Until I can properly analyze and cure it, we can’t risk disrupting this already _precarious equilibrium!_ I might actually die! No, I feel _I will actually die!_ Or at the very least, end up with a serious heart _failure!”_

“Pffft!” the human snorted, “Zim, no one has ever died from _not kissing._ I think you’ll survive that just fine”.

“ZiM is not like you humans! Kissing is not natural for Irkens! It has disrupted my PAK’s chemical workings!" he protested.

“Zim, you...” the human massaged her forehead with her hand, and replied with a tired voice: “you don’t want to kiss me because of a chemical problem in your PAK. Okay? It’s time you faced it. _Ergo,_ you are not going to die if we stop”.

“You _presumptuous little monkey!”_ Zim screeched pointing his finger at her, _“You think you know ZiM’s PAK better than ZiM does?!”_

“Yeah, well, Zim...” she sighed as she crossed her legs and her arms. She looked straight into his eyes, and assumed a very serious, firm expression.

“… you can’t force me to do it. So learn to deal with that”.

“YOU- _youuuunnnnngh-!!!”_ Zim growled in frustration.

Didn’t the human care at all about his well-being? He was suffering in front of her very eyes from the _excruciating_ pains of withdrawal! Though, come to think of that, that lack of care towards him was uncharacteristic too. Could there, perhaps, be more behind her refusal?

 _“I know you are lying to me, human!”_ Zim hissed at her, “you _must_ be. You’ve never cared about proper work protocols until now! _You have never cared for propriety of any kind!"_

Zim stood up, assuming a dramatic tone, emphasized by a series of theatrical hand gestures:

“I don’t know why you are doing this, and frankly? _I don’t even care!_ Because I KNOW very well how _COMPLETELY OBSESSED! you are with me!”_ he shouted with a more commanding, louder voice _, “I KNOW you can’t resist these lips!”_ , and saying so he pointed at mouth with both his hands.

Zim breathed in as much air as he could fit inside his body to yell the decisive line:

 _“OBEY THE LIPS, WOMAN! OBEY THE LEEEEEPS!!!”_ , he shouted, so loud he had to flex his spine backwards to get it all out.

Very, _very_ smooth. Now, _that_ surely ought to convince her!

But strangely, the human kept looking at him with her previous calm expression, seemingly unphased by his stunning seductive abilities.

“Zim. Are you my boyfriend?” she quietly asked him.

"Uh- _WHAT? What?!"_ he exclaimed, completely thrown off by that question.

"Just answer. Are you my boyfriend or not?"

“O… of course not!” Zim scoffed, “me, your boyfriend! _HA!_ Now that’s a good one, Driver-human!”

"Do you like me?" she asked again.

"Hahaha!" he laughed, "Of course not! ZiM likes _no one!_ And there's certainly nothing I would ever like about _you!"_

"Do you even care for me at all?"

"Oh, human! _Of course I don't care about you!_ Are you _serious?”_ he shook his head, talking as if he was stating a very obvious fact.

All of a sudden, the human’s calm expression inexplicably turned into a scowling, angry one.

That was no regular angry face either: it was the angriest expression he'd ever seen on her face.

Zim's condescending smile died on his lips; it'd happened so quickly, that his conscious mind had barely processed that change by the time the human started talking, and so when he heard that her voice, too, was seething with pure rage, he was so taken aback he almost felt _scared:_

 _“Well, ZIM,_ since the only person you worry about is _yourself,_ why don’t you just go to the mirror in the bathroom and french-kiss your reflection, _uh? How about that?”_

Zim took a step back from her on his seat, antennae lowered, intimidated by her unexpected, angry reaction.

He had no idea why, but he could already sense he’d just gotten himself in a giant trouble. He very much felt like he’d just stepped on a buried mine.

Zim opened his mouth to try and calm her down, but the human continued before he could emit a sound:

“And _MAYBE_ if you ask it nicely, your reflection might even come out of the mirror, and _cook your food for you,_ and _offer you a bed to sleep on,_ and put you _out_ if you ever catch on fire! _Oh, you’d make such a PERFECT couple, you two!”_ she put her hands together, and faked a smile at him.

"But human, I-"

 _"Just shut up, Zim! SHUT! UP!”_ she snapped at him in the loudest, angriest voice he’d ever heard coming from her.

That angry shout made him feel like a dagger had just been jabbed and twisted right in the middle of his chest. He even felt blood draining from his face and his knees becoming weak.

He stared at her for what felt like infinity. She looked absolutely _livid:_ her enraged eyes were too much to handle. He almost expected them to shoot fire at him any seconds now.

The human turned away from him with a snapping movement, directing her frowning face towards the ship’s windshield, body still trembling with rage; that didn’t make him feel much better, though.

Zim slowly sat back on his seat and repositioned it back in its place, afraid that a sudden movement would anger her again.

He opened and closed his mouth a couple of times, unable to think of a good way to alleviate her anger.

Why had she had such a violent reaction?! Usually, whenever he said such words to her, she would simply laugh them off, and move on like it was nothing! And usually at that point, she leaned towards him to kiss him, or try to hug him. What happened to the sweet, sappy, touchy human he knew? She was completely fine and ordinary just that _very morning!_ What happened to her to make her do such a sudden one-eighty?!

And then, it _clicked._

He found the reason why the human had suddenly turned on him.

 _“The Krass-monster pitted you against me, didn’t he?”_ he growled.

 _“… what?”_ she turned her angry face back to him.

 _“The Krass-man, human!_ You two talked about me this morning, didn't you?! And then he said something that made you act like this!”

“Uh-” the Driver-human was clearly thrown off by his accusation; for a moment, her eyes shot wide open, as if she’d just been caught red-handed.

“Zim, leave the Boss out of this! We didn’t talk about you at all this morning! Get over yourself!” she denied.

 _“Yes you did! I know for a fact that you did! You're a liar, human! A liar!”_ he accused her.

That accusation seemed to be founded after all, because it made the human appear even more nervous: she rubbed her arm with a hand uncomfortably, and her eyes once again darted left and right to avoid his.

“I know he said something about me that made you change your mind! You were fine with the whole kissing thing just this morning! And now, all of a sudden, you’re all gloomy and angry at me and don’t want to do it anymore!”

“Oh, wow, that sounds awful, Zim” she murmured, “I hope nothing like that ever happens to me...”

 _“ZiM is NOT as dumb and clueless as you two think!”_ Zim continued, “I was okay with letting this slide, but now I demand an explanation: _what did you two talk about this morning?”_

“Zim, no one thinks you’re dumb, and we are not at all against you! We- we’ve done nothing but _helping_ you until now!” she stated, trying to make her insecure voice sound firmer, “A-and, you know, Zim, being straight with you would be so much easier if you just could act coherent for five seconds!"

"ZiM _is_ coherent! He is always coherent! _When have I ever not been coherent?!"_

"Well then, answer me this, Zim: _do you hate me or not?!"_

 _"Of course I HATE you!_ You're so _smart_ and _pretty_ and _cool!"_

"See?! This is exactly what I'm talking about!!!” she shouted back, and she threw her arms in the air in exasperation, _“By GOD Zim, did your mom SMOKE while you were-_ smoke"

As she spoke that one last word, something to her side seemed to catch her attention, and diverted her attention from him.

"What? What's that about smoke now?"

“There’s _smoke_ in space!” the human pointed at something out of the windshield.

 _“There’s what in what now?”_ Zim turned as well to follow her finger, and looked out on the space in front of the ship; or at least, that’s what he would have done, hadn’t there been a thick, white smoke covering it all up.

"Ah, I see. You're trying to change the subject now"

"Zim, there is a _literal_ cloud of smoke right in front of us!" she says as she pressed some buttons on the panel.

On the ship’s screen appeared the videos from the external cameras: they all showed the same white smoke impairing the view and surrounding the ship from all angles.

"What the hell is that?” the human whispered, “It doesn’t come from the ship, and there’s nothing close to us...”, she said, and she started checking every possible parameter with increasing worry.

"I don't know. So what? It's just smoke. Let the autopilot guide the ship” Zim dismissed her concern waving his hand, “Now, about me having a 'mom'-"

"It's not working" she interrupted him.

"What's not working?" he asked.

"The autopilot isn't working. Look, the GPS is out!"

He leaned to look at the GPS' display: it showed the map of the tract of space they were traversing just before they started arguing, but the dot that was supposed to indicate their position was gone.

"I think we've been thrown off course" she added, even more worried than before.

Now he was starting to get anxious too. Was something interfering with their connections to the GPS satellites? Was that correlated with the smoke? And why did it have to happen at such a _critical_ moment?!

"Can't you use the radar?" he asked.

"There's nothing near us that we can use as a reference. Maybe-"

All of a sudden, something struck the ship’s right side, making it shake.

Both of them went instantly quiet, and instinctively looked to their right.

They slowly turned their heads to face each other, and shared a confused, startled look.

Then, there was another strike, this time much stronger than the first one, so much so that it made the ship steer to the left, and both he and the human let out a surprised yelp; the lights in the ship flickered off and on.

The human held onto the steering wheel, trying to stabilize the ship, but it didn’t stop shaking: it was like something out there, or multiple _somethings_ indeed, were bumping into it from all sides.

 _"What's happening? Is someone attacking us?!"_ Zim asked, now genuinely scared.

"No, I think- it is more like wind blowing on a plane!"

The human tried to steer the ship back to the right, but it was hit by an even stronger force that put it back in the previous direction. Zim could tell she was seriously struggling to keep the steering wheel still: whatever was hitting the ship, was pretty strong.

The analogy she'd made was pretty accurate: it very much felt like they were on an aircraft flying through a terrible storm.

The human secured her seat belt, and he did the same; t _his didn’t look good at all..._

"Human, do something!" he shouted.

"I don’t know what to do! How can there be wind in space?! I’ve never seen anything like this!" she replied in an equally panicked voice, trying her hardest to keep the wheel straight.

"Just shoot some missiles or something!"

"How would that be of any help?"

"Missiles always help!"

"I mean, you're not wrong, but- hey look! _Look there!_ Is that a light?"

Zim had noticed it too: there was a small dot of light shining intermittently in front of them, buried deep miles away in the white fog.

They both looked over at the radar's display: a dot correspondent to the mysterious object had appeared on it.

"What is that?!" Zim asked.

"I don't know..." the human answered uncertain.

She tried steering to the right again, but again the ‘wind’ violently pushed them back towards the light. She tried turning to the left, but again the ship was pushed on that route that led to the light.

“There seems to be an air canal here where the wind is less strong...” the human murmured.

“I-it’s luring us in!” Zim started to panic, _“Shoot it down, human! Shoot those missiles!”_ he urged her.

“I can’t just shoot something without even knowing what it is!” she retorted, “And it seems we _will_ know soon, anyway...” the human readied the missiles: she pressed a sequence of buttons, and Zim heard the mechanic sounds the missile-shooting turrets arranging on both sides of the ship. However, she also pushed the ship towards the light even faster than before, and Zim could have sworn that the wind started pushing the ship forward along with its propellers.

"What are you doing?! _Are you crazy?!_ We’re falling right into their trap!"

 _“Whose_ trap?! You can’t just… ‘make wind’, Zim!”

“Yes you can! _I can!_ Turn the ship away!”

“You saw it, I can’t!”

“Not with your weak fragile monkey hands you can’t!” Zim tried to reach for the wheel, but the human slapped his hand away.

"Keep your hands away, Zim!" she commanded, irritated, "I'm the pilot here!"

"You're also the pilot that got us into this foggy nightmare in the first place! You-”

 _“Zim, I feel the sudden, primal urge to maul your vocal cords”_ she growled, baring her teeth threateningly, _“So unless you have anything helpful to add, you better shut up”._

Zim immediately went quiet, remembering the damage that those ape teeth of hers could do; he sunk in his chair and crossed his arms, staring anxiously at the light in the fog, feeling as impotent as ever.

The sheer gall of this human! Telling him, _ZIM,_ to shut up! Leading them towards danger because she couldn’t fly her own ship through a tiny bit of wind! Calling herself ‘Driver’! She should have herself... Not... _Not-so-good-driver!_

Zim took a sneaky look at her: she was keeping her eyes firm on the light, her hands ready to shoot the missiles at any sign of danger.

For a moment there, he’d been so scared of whatever was attacking them, that he’d forgotten that she was still angry at him.

He wanted to say something, _anything,_ as talking usually helped him ease anxiety, but he was pretty sure that she would have just given him another angry answer. And then she would have probably mauled him.

So, he found himself to nervously wait in his chair, staring at that distant light. And although he still feared whatever potential threat it might have been, on the forefront of his thoughts were now those cruel words that the human had used against him.

She had never been so… so _mean_ to him! Even the other times she’d been angry at him, she’d never told him to _‘shut up’!_ She’d never ignored him! She’d never ignored his discomfort like she was doing now! Why had she taken such an offense at his words? It’s not like he’d said anything that she didn’t already knew! He totally hadn’t been rude and unfair to her!… had he?

Zim fiddled again with his hands: deep in his chest, he felt the unusual, unpleasant feeling of _regret._

He wished so, so hard that he hadn’t said those words to her, and wanted nothing but setting things between them how they were just a few hours before, but his pride refrained him from apologizing. And besides, he was afraid that she would say another mean thing to him.

Something else however caught his attention: as they got closer to the unidentified object, it became apparent that it wasn’t an intermittent light at all, but rather a _ray of light_ whose source span on itself.

Then, slowly, the surroundings of the ray of light became more defined too: there was a sort of _tower_ upholding the spinning light. And under that, there seemed to be a sort of small building, with lights coming out of its windows.

"Hey, that’s a _lighthouse!"_ the human exclaimed.

"What’s a lighthouse?" Zim asked, but as he spoke the ship was hit by another wave of strong shakes: they were entering the atmosphere of whatever land the tower was built on.

"There seems to be an atmosphere here" the human confirmed his deduction, “It might be a small planet, or maybe an artificial platform. I’ll try and land here now” she informed him.

But the ship seemed not to agree with her: even though she had initiated the landing procedure, the strong wind kept her from stabilizing the ship; plus, they were now hovering at the same height as the light, and much closer to it too, so every few seconds it would spin and brightly shine right into their eyes: the continuous shakes and the intermittent, temporary blindness combined together to form a true and authentic torturous assault on the senses.

"Just land already!" Zim pleaded as that horrible light forced him to close his eyes a third time in a row.

“I’m trying! Just give me a second, okay? I’m trying not to crash!” the human said as she fumbled around with the commands.

"Well, just... just press the gravitational button and the system override command at the same time!”

"What? Why?"

"Just do it!" he ordered.

The human, probably out of frustration for her fruitless attempts at landing, actually followed his command and as soon as she pressed both buttons, all the lights of the ship went out, its engine turned off, and they fell with a loud, violent crash on the surface the light-house was on.

The impact was so strong, Zim felt his teeth grit inside his mouth, and if he and the human weren’t wearing their seatbelts, they would have been without a doubt thrown out of their seats. From the back of the ship, came the sound of multiple objects falling, as well as that of something made of glass breaking.

Zim looked at the human: he could barely see her, as the only light powerful enough to illuminate the ship was now the one of the light-house-tower, which shone irregularly above them, but he could tell that she’d been rather startled by that emergency landing: she had a short breath, and her eyes were wide open.

Slowly, she turned around to look at him.

"Eh... see? _We landed!"_ he gave her an awkward smile, but she didn’t return it. In fact, she looked quite _un-amused_ by his unorthodox landing technique.

The Driver-human unfastened her belt, then reached in a drawer under the control panel and drew her ray gun out of it.

For a split second, Zim was sure that she would use it on him, so he felt a big rush of relief when she instead placed it in the holster under her jacket.

"Come on, let’s board off" she grumbled, "Don’t say or do anything before _I_ do".

She turned on her chair and headed out of the ship; Zim quickly followed her through the corridor onto the outer stairs.

Once they were out of the ship, they took a good look around them: close to that surface, the mist was nothing but a light haze; the wind, too, was much weaker than it was just a couple of feet above them.

Apparently, they had landed on an artificial space-platform with a flat, barren surface of brown dirt. In front of them, stood a small, one-floor house, of a light gray color, squared, bare, like a bunker, or a block of cement; from there, they could see a metal, green door positioned right in the middle, and two windows on either side, out of which shone a warm, yellow light.

Finally, above the house, towered the _'light-house',_ as the human had called it: it was as gray and as bare as the house below, with small little dark windows, and on top of it laid that horrible yellow light, ever turning on itself, ploughing strong through the fog, that seemed to extend for miles and miles in the space around them.

The human stepped on the platform’s surface and checked the ship’s landing gear: luckily, it appeared to have sustained the crash without any major damage.

"There seems to be people in the house" she told him, "Let's go meet them"

"What?!” he exclaimed, “Are you going to trust some random strangers like that?"

"Lighthouses are made to _help_ people, Zim. They are used to guide ships when the visibility is impaired. This one must have been built because this area is subject to storms… somehow".

Zim looked up at the light-house. That thing was supposed to help people? It didn’t look reassuring at all to him. If anything, it looked extremely _creepy._ It looked more like the giant, yellow eye of a nocturnal beast. Or a spinning death ray. Or a giant, spinning eye that also shot death rays.

"But you said it yourself, there are no storms in space! I've been alive for way more than you have and I've never heard of such a thing! Don't you think that's suspicious? That the wind led us right here to this light-tower-thing?”

“Why would anyone even do that?”

“Maybe they want to steal our ship! Harvest our organs… dissect us… maybe they want to eat us too… _people-eating monsters in the fog...”_ Zim shuddered at thought of the endless possible living nightmares that could be lurking inside that shady building.

"Zim, we are in the middle of nowhere. If they really want to trap people for a living, then they chose a horrible location. I think you watched way too many slasher movies on Earth" and as she turned around headed for the house, she snickered: “I didn’t take you for such a scaredy-chicken”.

"ZiM is no chicken! Human, you can’t go in like that!” he warned her “At least kick the door down and threaten them with your gun!"

"You're just being _paranoid. As usual.”_ she looked at him over her shoulders “Don't make a scene when we meet the people inside, okay?"

Zim anxiously ran behind her, who was now dangerously close to the door.

"Stop being so careless, human! You’re really going to get us both killed! _Or worse!"_

"What?" she scoffed as she turned back around to face him, "if you are so afraid then, take your Voot Cruiser and fly away!”

“I-” Zim looked up at the sky: the white fog moved fast under the wind’s blows. If the human’s ship couldn’t fly through that, there was no way that his little cruiser could. Getting stuck up there with no one that could help him was a terrifying prospect.

Additionally, for some reason, leaving the human to deal all alone with the probably cause of that whole incident didn’t sit well with him in the slightest.

“Look, human, if you just stopped being so emotional and you’d see-"

"Oh, _WOW!_ I'm the emotional one now?” she cut him off, “If you hadn't freaked out about me not wanting to kiss you I would have been more focused on driving and maybe we wouldn't have ended up stuck in this mist!"

"Well, if we’d just taken the main route like I suggested, we would have never even come close to this place!" he hissed back,

"You- you know, this is enough, I’m tired of this" the human murmured slid a hand across her face, “if I wanted to deal with this level of entitlement and emotional unavailability I would have stuck to dating human men”.

 _“You insolent monkey!_ How am I ‘entitled’?! _Don’t you see I’m trying to help you?!”_ Zim angrily shouted.

 _“I don’t WANT nor NEED the help of someone who doesn’t care for me!”_ the human shouted back.

Zim was ready to shoot right back at her, but he heard a series of clacks coming from behind the human.

Someone was opening the door to the house from the inside.

The sound startled him enough to make his heart jump in his throat. He immediately assumed a defensive stance and drew out two of his laser-legs out of his PAK.

The human, too, seemed to be startled by the sudden noise; she quickly turned around, took a few steps back, and, despite her stubborn resolve to absolutely trust the unknown residents of the building, she sneaked a hand under her jacket, ready to grab her gun if necessity called for it.

Zim felt a very, very bad feeling about what was coming, possibly even _worse_ than before. All in all, maybe trying to face the space-storm wouldn’t have been so bad compared to this: he really, really wished above all for both of them to be _anywhere_ else.

He was just considering to simply grab the human with his PAK legs and forcefully drag her back to the ship, but his body paralyzed as the green metal door opened to reveal the inhabitants of the space lighthouse.


	13. The Lighthouse (Part 2)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Two kind, old strangers welcome the still-arguing Driver and Zim into their Lighthouse.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I didn't intend for this to come out so long.  
> Luckily though, your overwhelming support gave me the motivation to finish this way earlier than expected!  
> I hope you guys enjoy this one. :)

The green metal door slowly creaked open, revealing a couple of pale, long faces with big, shining black eyes.

A shiver of fear ran through Driver’s spine, as those features immediately reminded her of the classic horror movie monsters with white skin and dark eyes that used to scare the hell out of her back on Earth.

That first gut reaction vanished quickly, though, as the two strangers stepped beyond the threshold both displaying cordial, welcoming smiles, and moving in a slow, non-threatening manner.

They were very similar in appearance: they weren’t very tall, barely reaching her shoulders in height, they had gray complexions, big black eyes, two slits each for a nose, and they both had to be old, as their faces were marked by numerous wrinkles. The upper part of their bodies was humanoid, their arms terminating in three fingers, as most alien hands did; from the end of the torso down however, their bodies resembled more the rear part of an insect, with four bug-like legs supporting their weight.

By their hairstyles and their clothes, she could tell that one was male and the other female: the male one had had short white hair and was wearing a red shirt similar to a human polo; while the female one had puffy, shoulder-length brown hair and wore a light, violet woman sweater. From their hair, sprouted a couple of black bug antennae.

 _There’s no way that’s real hair. They have to be wigs, right?,_ Driver thought.

The last notable thing about them she noticed, was that they were wearing two matching, golden, heart-shaped lockets around their necks. So they were a couple? A married couple, perhaps?

The strangers disposed themselves side by side in front of the door, facing her and Zim, and welcomed them speaking with gentle, kind voices:

“Look what the wind brought us today”, the male one talked first.

 _“A new couple of visitors!”,_ the female one exclaimed with a joyous voice.

"Welcome to our Lighthouse", the male one said, waving a hand to gesture at the building behind himself.

 _"We_ are the Lighthouse Keepers", the female one precised.

Driver slowly moved her hand away from the gun under the jacket, reassured by their polite demeanor and slightly confused by their coordinated speeches.

"Did you crash your ship? We heard a very loud noise!" the old lady asked worriedly.

"It sounded like a pretty rough landing!" the old man echoed, "We're glad you don’t seem hurt though!"

"Oh, we are SO glad to see you are alright! The wind has been blowing particularly strong today!"

Their words bounced off each other like a ball in a game of pong. Finally though, Driver found a window to speak herself:

"We’re ok, thanks!" she smiled back at them, "I don’t know what we would have done without this lighthouse! We would have been completely lost in the storm without it! Thank you so much! "

"No need to thank us, dear. That’s why we are here in the first place!" the old lady replied.

“You do seem pretty lost” the old man nodded, “Never seen two fellows like you around these parts”.

"And your turbulent spirits seem to match the fury of the storm” the old lady giggled, putting a hand in front of her mouth.

"Er... pardon?", had they heard them fight? Oh, man, how embarrassing...

"Your green companion does have a pair of guns pointed at us" the old man gestured at something to her right.

"Wha- _ZIM!"_ she hissed as she turned around to see Zim standing next to her in a menacing, defensive pose, face frowning, fists clenched, and laser guns steadily pointed at the old couple.

"Put those things down, Zim!" she urged him, but he simply ignored her without even moving an inch or saying a word.

 _"Stop being so rude, you uncivil-"_ she growled at him, but the old lady interrupted her with a reassuring voice:

"Oh, it’s all right, my dear!"

“We understand if you don’t trust us yet”, the old man nodded gravely.

“The deep space is full of dangers”, the old lady imitated her companion’s gesture.

"Ah, thanks for being understanding" she smiled again, hoping that Zim wouldn’t randomly start shooting as they were talking.

"So, uhm these winds... and the mist... are they common here?”

"Oh, they happen all the time" the old man confirmed.

"Do they? What causes them?" she asked.

"Who knows!" the old lady exclaimed.

"After all this time, it’s still a mystery, even to us!"

"It could be because of shifts in the magnetic fields around here..."

"… or maybe a draft escaping from a nearby black hole!"

"Or perhaps, it’s the breath of a looong dead monster, that has still to fade out!"

"OR, maybe it’s caused by the movements of a restless heart tossing and turning in a bed of tears!"

“Oh, that’s the explanation I love the most!” the old lady chirped in a dreamy manner.

“This is, after all, a _Lighthouse of Love”_ the old man agreed.

Driver looked between the two of them, absolutely appalled at the mental state the only two living beings capable of helping her in that dire moment were versing in.

She sighed, resisting the strong impulse to ask them: _'What the HELL are you two talking about?’,_ and opted instead more sensitive:

_"Ooooo...kay.”_

Then, she continued: “Well, do you know when the storm will calm down? We’re kind of in a hurry to leave again".

"Ah, the storms here are quite unpredictable!" the old lady replied.

"It might take a few hours", the old man speculated.

"Or a few seconds",

"A few years!"

"A few months!"

"Oh, ah- no, that can’t be!" she shook her head with a worried smile, now really fearing that they’d be stuck there forever, "we need to leave as soon as possible. We have a very important job to do. Isn’t there any way we can traverse the storm right now? Perhaps you have a vehicle capable of that? I can pay you a lot for-"

"Oh, no!” the old man shook his head back at her, “Once the storm is in full swing, nothing and no one that is caught in it can escape it!"

"You’d end up stuck in there, swirling in the misty vortexes until the storm dies out on its own!"

"Or more likely, your ship will be torn apart by the wind before the storm stops!"

"Or, even more likely, you’ll just end up right here again!" the old lady opened her arms to point at the platform they were on.

Driver looked up at the sky, full of worry: the clouds of smoke moved fast under the wind’s violent blows. It didn’t seem to her like the storm was about to calm down any time soon. If at least they knew what the cause of it all was!

"Would you like to come inside for some tea?" the old man asked.

"Yes! What a wonderful idea!" the old lady gently clapped her hand excitedly.

"We will wait out the storm together!"

"Ah, I mean, we wouldn’t wanna be of any bother…", Driver scratched her nape awkwardly.

“Oh, you wouldn’t bother us! Absolutely not!" the old lady reassured her.

"It’s our duty as the Lighthouse Keepers to help all the travelers that crash here!"

"Well, I guess… we can’t do much else anyway…" she took a step towards the house.

 _"HUMAN, are you out of your mind?!"_ Zim shouted, pulling her back by the edge of her jacket, "how can you trust these two lunatics? _Have you HEARD how they speak?!_ Their tea is no doubt as poisoned as their tongues are! _They’ll knock you out and then MUNCH on your brains!"_

“Oh my GOD Zim, _zip it!”_ she pulled her jacket out of his hand, “you’re the lunatic here! They’re just trying to help us!”

“No, _I_ am helping us!” Zim retorted, “There’s no way I’m setting a single foot in their shady, dusty, old shack of a light-house!”

“Well then, don’t! But _I_ am!” she patted her own chest to point at herself, “I’m going to go into their house and drink their tea! _Exactly_ like a _normal_ person would! And you know what?”, and then she added with a more quiet voice and a harsher tone: “If it kills me then good, _at least then I’ll be rid of your constant nagging!”_

Zim's expression at those words fell again, like it did before on the ship, his antennae dropping behind his head; he took a step back, drawing the lasers back into his PAK, and stared at her, looking unsure and hurt.

She couldn’t help but feel a surge of sadistic satisfaction at that reaction.

_Good. Now you know how I feel when you talk to me like that._

She turned around and followed the old couple inside the house.

Maybe something good would come out of this accident: finally she could interact with people that had nothing to do with Zim or the Boss or this stupid mission, and she may be able to take her mind off all of that for a bit. Too bad those people didn’t seem to be… all there.

They crossed the entrance door and walked through the small hall of the house; from there, Driver could see three different rooms: to their right, behind an open door, she could glimpse a fridge in a dark room that had to be the kitchen; in front of them stretched a corridor covered in complete darkness; from its position, Driver guessed that it probably led to the lighthouse proper.

The old couple, however, were leading her to the living room, which occupied the entire left half of the house.

“There we are, dear” the old lady smiled at her.

“Make yourself at home!” the old man added.

She was surprised to see that the interior of the house looked nothing like what the exterior might have suggested: while the house appeared pretty much like an anonymous block of cement on the outside, on the inside it was _overdecorated._

The first thing that hit her eyes (literally) was the light: it was so bright in contrast to the outer dimly-lit space platform, that they had to take time to adapt to it; a large, old-fashioned glass chandelier and four floor lamps, one in each corner of the room, had been lit all at the same time, flooding it with a warm, but excessive yellow light.

 _Maybe they have poor visions,_ she tried to explain that oddity to herself, _and after all, they don’t even have a sun lighting the place._

Marking the center of the room was a small tea table, standing right between two sofas facing each other.

But the truly impressive part were the walls: they were covered by so many paintings and photos, it was hard to see even see them, the only exception being a small corner where a cupboard with glass doors and expensive-looking cutlery stored in it was placed.

The old man sat comfortably on one of the sofas, while the old lady stood by the living room’s entrance, hands conjoined and ever-still smiling like a maiden working for a rich mansion would have done.

“What a lovely house you have! I didn’t think I’d find one like this in the depths of space!” Driver exclaimed, looking with wonder at the pictures on the walls. Look how many there were! Of all sorts of sizes and colors and frames! They had to be at least _one hundred_ in total! Although, now that she was really focusing on it them, there was something very _strange_ about them: it wasn’t immediately noticeable, as they were all painted, photographed, and edited in different styles, but upon attentive scrutiny they all (well at least all those that she could see) depicted the lighthouse _,_ and _only_ that.

_They must be... very dedicated to their jobs._

“Oh, thank you, dear!” the old lady thanked her.

“We’re very glad that you overcame your distrust of us!” the old man said.

“Ah, yes. Sorry about that. My… _partner,_ can get a little paranoid at times”.

“We’re not offended at all, don’t worry! I’m just happy that you’ll both get to taste my tea!” the old lady chirped.

That remark deflected her from continuing her (until now unsuccessful) search for a picture that didn’t display the lighthouse.

 _“'Both'?”_ she asked.

 _“Ahem”_ somebody impatiently cleared their throat from below her, at her right.

She jumped, surprised to see that Zim had sneakily followed her all the way inside the house.

He was standing next to he with his arms crossed, tapping his foot on the floor, a disgruntled expression on his face.

“Zim! What are you doing here? I thought you were going to go back to the ship!” she exclaimed.

Zim tilted his head up to her and shot her an angry look.

“I thought you wanted me to die here with you” Zim grumbled, “Also, I want to be there when the tea they give you makes you throw up all your organs”.

Driver clenched her fists and gritted her teeth, ready to snap at him, but the old lady, seemingly unaware of the negative atmosphere between them, approached them from behind and said with a happy voice:

“Now, now, why don’t you two sit down on the couch and relax? I’ll fix your tea in the meantime! It won’t take long!”

And after she spoke, she dashed to the kitchen at an unexpected speed, moving quickly on her four feet. From the other side of the house, came the sounds of clinking pots and of water flowing from a tap.

Driver gave Zim an angry, but impotent look.

_So this is how it’s going to be, uh? You want to ruin this for me too, don’t you?_

She headed to the couch in front of the one the old man was sitting on, and sat as far to the left as possible; Zim imitated her, sitting far from her on the right, an annoyed, angry expression depicted on both their faces, both trying their hardest not to look at each other.

The old man, more receptive to the situation than his companion was, let out a loud laughter and commented:

“Your rambunctious spirits remind me of myself in my youth. How I miss those days!”

“Do you, sir?”, she asked, “I just think they’re exhausting...”

“You tell me...” Zim grumbled.

The old man laughed loudly again, apparently amused by their disgruntled series.

“Do you folks have names?” he asked them.

“You can call me Driver, sir” she replied.

“What about you, mister?”

Zim gave him a nasty, hostile look.

“My name is ZiM. I am an elite soldier from the Mighty Irken Empire” he introduced himself with his usual fanfare, it sounded more like a threat than his usual boasting.

“Ah, an Irken! I thought you didn’t pick partners from other races! Are you some kind of monkey, miss?”

“We don’t” Zim quietly mumbled.

“Actually, sir, I’m an ape”

“Oof! My bad, my bad. I’m not good at all at telling species apart”

“That’s okay” she smiled at him, “What about you and the lady? What are your names?”

“The name of this gorgeous lady over here is Margaret” he held his hand out the old lady, who had just come back from the kitchen; she gently squeezed it, and took a seat next to her companion, her smile as bright as ever.

“That’s a lovely name!” she complimented her.

“And my name is Ojodfobnogbfnbgogbong.”

“That’s a… _long_ name” she hoped her comment would sound as a compliment, “Are you two married?”

“Yes”, Margaret nodded.

“Happily so!”, her husband added.

“Have been for a little more than five hundred years!”

“Oh, wow”, Driver let out, impressed. “And how long have you been living here?”

“Actually, we were on our honeymoon when we got here to the Lighthouse”, the husband answered.

“And right away, we fell absolutely in love with this place!”

“So much so, that the previous Keepers kindly agreed for us to take their places”.

“I see” Driver nodded, “do you have substitutes that fill in for you from time to time?”

“Oh, no!”

“We _never_ leave!”

“We _could_ never!”

“We _would_ never!”

Welp. That explained a lot, from the hundred pictures on the walls to their strange way of speaking: for five hundred years, they’d never experienced anything that wasn’t the lighthouse or each other. No wonder they were obsessed with both. They didn’t seem to be unhappy, though, and she almost envied them for that.

 _For the small price of your sanity, you get eternal happiness,_ she thought.

“Oh I know how it must look” Margaret smiled, “But we aren’t lonely at all. Plenty of people visit here actually!”

“Many young couples come here, just like we were when we first came here”

“Look, we keep pictures of each and every one of them!”

Margaret waved her arm, pointing at a shelf behind the sofa. So there were, after all, pictures that didn’t depict the lighthouse. Driver squinted: there was a long line of small, framed photos on the shelf, all depicting couples of different alien species-

_They ate them. That’s how they survive. They made them drink the drugged tea and then ate them alive in their sleep just like they’ll do to you._

She shook her head, trying to banish that absurd thought. It wasn’t possible for them to survive on what had to be at most fifty or forty people for five hundred years. And they weren’t _cannibals,_ they were just _senile and lonely!_ Zim’s paranoia must have crept in her subconscious.

“I remember all their names” Margaret sighed.

“Do you?” Driver giggled.

“Oh yes. My hearts break every time they leave. It’s like a part of me goes with them each time. At least, a part of them always lingers here too...”

 _That’s because you store their bodies in the walls- oh, shut up, brain. You’re giving me the creeps,_ she scolded herself.

“That is very sweet of-”

“From left to right: Marix, Jink, Valve, Petre, Robin, John, Pinkred, Zeta, Markrux, Jod, Axlo, Ferna, Tredici, Beta, Nestor, Westen, Larbretta, Jena, Clevor, Hectora, Broom, Meta, Galaxia, Sterna, Spinne, Larxetta, Xigberto, Fernando, Leela, Derry, Necron, Mak, Black, Frudel, Salsa, Forketta, Mestolo, Tovajolo, Kukna, Basno, Fresco, Calpro, John (the other one), Shifter, Husker, Neftis, Plexus, Rita, Gergio, Mista, Volta, and Genevieve” Margaret recited by heart.

Driver and Zim looked at each other: even he, who had looked bored out of his mind the whole time, seemed to be impressed by Margaret’s feat -but maybe ‘impressed’ wasn’t the right term. He looked terrified more than anything. His mouth moved slightly and slowly as he spoke very, very quietly:

_“Let’s go”._

“And, and-uhm”, she turned away from him, trying to ignore him, “all of them were couples?”

“Yes!” the husband replied.

“The Light seems to prefer those” Margaret explained.

“It is after all a Lighthouse of Love” the husband nodded.

“Ah… right” Driver smiled, wondering if they knew how downright _(mental)_ goofy they sounded to others.

A whistling sound suddenly came from the kitchen.

“Ooh, the tea’s ready!” Margaret quite literally jumped off the couch and dashed again into the kitchen with her surprising speed.

“I gather that you two are a loving couple yourselves?” the husband asked.

 _“HA!”,_ Zim bursted, and in between giggles he shook his head saying: “oh, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no. _No, no._ No way, _no”._

“Yeah, _no”_ she pouted, “He’s short and he smells weird.”

Zim turned to her with a sharp movement and fired her an enraged, offended look.

The old man let out his loud laughter again at that:

“Ah ah ah! And how did you two meet?”

“That’s none of your business-” Zim started speaking, but she interrupted him:

“We got drunk in a bar together” she explained.

“What! _No way!_ Ha ha ha!” the old man laughed even louder than before.

Driver leaned her back against the couch, crossed her legs, and nonchalantly swung her foot in the air.

“Yeah, and after that he waddled into my house, dropped asleep on my bed, ate my food, and settled to live in my basement. And just like that, this is my life now, I guess. Condemned to bicker with him and then crash on the most desolated asteroids in the universe, forever -no offense”.

Zim crossed his arms and looked down, face darkened from the embarrassment; the old man meanwhile was laughing so hard, his eyes started watering, and he had to slap one of his legs three times to calm down.

“Oh boy, you are the funniest couple we’ve ever had over!” he said, wiping away his tears, “Ah, that reminds me. We have to commemorate this moment. _Here-”_ and out of somewhere behind himself, he drew out an instant camera.

Both she and Zim looked uncomfortably at him.

“Hah, no, thanks, I really don’t like photos...” she shook her head.

 _“Don’t you dare take a photo or I’ll-”_ Zim started threatening him.

But despite their pleas, the old man swiftly brought the camera in front of his face, aimed at them and flashed it into their eyeballs, blinding them; Zim let out a little screech.

“Owww” she lamented massaging her sore eyes.

 _“Who said you could do that!!”_ Zim protested.

“Here, look” the old man said; Driver peeked from her half closed eyelids and say him waving the picture in the air as the image appeared on it.

He showed it to them: both her and Zim looked surprised and annoyed; her eyes looked even more red than Zim’s.

_To be fair that’s about how I imagined our first photo to be._

“This will go right up on the shelf!” the old man looked at it, seemingly satisfied with the result.

Just as she was about to protest, Margaret came back carrying a tray with a whole fuming tea set for four on it.

“Tea’s here! I’ve got cream, sugar, lemon, and cookies too!” she beamed.

She placed the tray down on the tea table and started distributing the already-filled tea cups.

Driver was incredulous. Despite their age, those two moved even faster than she could think.

“Thank you, I’ll serve myself” she smiled at her, and started to pour the cream and sugar in her cup.

“What about you, young man?” Margaret asked Zim.

“I’m not drinking it” he growled.

“Oh, why? You don’t like tea?” she asked with a saddened look.

“No, I don’t think I’ll like _your_ tea” he precised.

“But this is the best tea from our home galaxy!” the old man intervened.

“Won’t you have at least a little sip of it? At least try the cookies!” Margaret offered him the plate with the tea cookies.

“I’d rather not die than eat your disgusting _coo-kies,_ _light-keeper”_ Zim hissed.

Margaret seemed to give up at that; she placed the cookies back on the table and sat back on the sofa, next to her husband.

Driver rolled her eyes as she stirred her tea. It looked perfectly fine to her: it was clear, and green, and invitingly fuming; it didn’t smell weird, not did it look like anything had been added to it. Besides, the old couple were clearly about to drink the tea too! How could it be drugged or poisoned? She really envied them, able to blissfully ignore Zim’s paranoid, rude whining.

She blew on her tea, and was about to take a sip of it, when Zim turned to her and ordered, with an authoritative, deep voice:

“Don’t drink that.”

She looked at him, annoyed, raising an eye brow.

“Excuse me?”

“Don’t drink that stuff, human” he repeated.

 _“Au contraire,_ I think that’s exactly what I’m going to do” she faked a polite tone.

 _“I forbid you to drink it”_ he growled with a harder edge in his voice.

 _“Then make me”_ she growled back.

She turned away from him and neared the cup to her mouth.

But just when it was about to touch her lips, something thin and metallic dashed from her right and hit the cup, shattering it in her hand; the tea and the cup’s pieces fell and scattered both on the floor and her pants.

“Oh dear!”, “Woah!” Margaret and her husband exclaimed in surprise, and immediately got up from their places with worried faces to assist her.

She slowly turned her head to Zim: the PAK leg he had used to do that was still extended out; as he retracted it back, he told her in a sarcastic, petty voice:

_“Ooops. My leg slipped”._

“Careful! Careful! Don’t walk on the floor!” the old man warned everyone as he retrieved the broken pieces of the cup on the floor.

“Are you okay, dear? You didn’t cut yourself, did you?” Margaret stood worriedly in front of her, extending her hands to help her.

Driver felt her soaked pants stick uncomfortably to her skin underneath, and suddenly she _hated_ them with a burning passion. _Every. Single. One. Of them._

She clenched her hands, keeping them from reaching the gun under her jacket and shoot at everyone and everything in her sight.

She just stood up sharply, sending the pieces of the cup that had fallen on her on the floor and murmured, struggling not to stutter from the anger:

_“May I use the restroom?”_

“Of course, my dear!” Margaret nodded, and her excessively kind voice sounded to her like a piercing shrill, “It’s the first door on the left down the corridor”.

“Thanks” she mumbled and quickly headed to the corridor, trying not to look at Zim.

“No, wait, don’t go!” she heard him say behind her.

_Oh, to hell with you._

As she stepped into the dark corridor, a light above her turned on: on the ceiling was a line of automatic lights that turned on and off following the steps of those who walked it.

It was probably an illusion caused by the absolute darkness in front of her, but it looked to her like the corridor was endless; it took her a strangely long time to reach the bathroom door too (she counted about seven lights turning on before she saw it appear to her left), but it was better this way; she wanted to be as far as possible from everyone else.

With no other rooms in sight, she briefly wondered where their bedroom was, if they even needed one.

She entered the bathroom and shut the door behind herself; she let her back fall onto it, threw her hands over her face and let out long, deep, tired, and anger-seething sigh.

She felt so, so angry and frustrated and _confused_ at everything around her, she felt she might physically explode.

Why, just why was Zim that way?! That little… bipolar… gremlin… embarrassing her in front of strangers… and above all, suddenly pretending to care about her!

And at the worst possible time, too: right when she was trying to push him away, he turned all clingy and needy, _completely_ out of the blue!

... but at the same time, maybe this was unfair to him. She knew how difficult it was for him to express his feelings. When she’d asked him those things back on the ship, she should have expected an answer like that...

 _How stupid you are!,_ she tried to shake off her regret, _Stop feeling sorry for him! He’s an ungrateful, entitled little man-child! It's too late for feeling sorry now! Not after what he's said to you! So what if you take your anger on him? He deserves all of this! He deserves to be hurt just like were!_

She felt a surge of pure disgust and shame at her own thoughts, so strong that it made her jump.

_Oh, God. Did I really just think that? And I have the audacity to call him cruel and childish?_

She stroked her arms, and nervously bit her lip.

Maybe she deserved to have an awfully distant partner like he was. Just look at her: blatantly lying to his face, hurting him on purpose, toying with his emotions. No sort of bad behavior on his part could possibly justify her own.

After all, was he even her _partner_ at all? In a sense that wasn’t _professional?_ All they ever did was making out, chatting about trivial subjects, lying to each other, and argue. If all he expected from her were quick, emotionless make-outs and a space-bending machine, could she really blame him? That’s how she’d approached him in the beginning. Maybe, at the end of the day, she was the naive one.

And maybe, like everyone around her repeated, Irkens really were incapable of true love. Maybe it really was a all a problem with his PAK. What reason did she have to doubt him at this point? What did she knew about his biology anyway?

And the _worst_ part was, there was no one to ask for advice or help. And it was not like she could just say ‘frick it’ and walk away: this was her job. She couldn’t just come back to mister Krassmann empty-handed.

_She was stuck._

She felt a knot in her throat, and had to fight back the tears.

_The first day of the job, and I’m already a mess. Oh, God. There is no way I can pull this off for weeks._

Man, she’d really softened up. This had never happened to her before. Maybe she’d grown even more attached to Zim than she thought...

She pressed her hands against her closed eyes, and she shook her head.

 _Enough with this._ She had got herself stuck in that mess and she was going to have to deal with it. After they left the lighthouse, she was almost sure that if she just acted like nothing happened, Zim would have done so too. Probably, if she just caved in and gave him what he wanted, it would have been enough to stop his probing about that morning.

_Just like a concubine would do._

She grumbled at her own intrusive thoughts. Maybe it was time she left the bathroom and helped clean up the mess in the other room. Things had probably gotten even worse with Zim left alone with the old couple.

Speaking of the bathroom… she now noticed that it was rather different than the rest of the house: it was bare and anonymous, just like the bunker-like exterior. It had a white ceiling light. White were also the toilet, the sink, the small cabinet in the corner, and the bathtub, as well as the walls.

_Maybe they didn’t have enough money to decorate it. Or simply didn’t feel the need to._

Two very reasonable explanations, and yet suddenly, she felt very uncomfortable being in that quiet, white little room.

She turned and opened the door to find Margaret standing in front of it, smiling.

 _“Jesus!”_ she jumped backwards, startled. “Lady, you _scared_ me! What are you doing here?”

“Oh sorry, my dear” she apologized, “I just wanted to make sure you were okay”.

“Thank... you. Don’t worry” she closed the door behind her. “I’m very sorry about the teacup, I- I really don’t know what to say...”

“Don’t worry about it! It was just a little cup! More importantly… I don’t mean to intrude, but, is everything alright between you and your little ‘partner’, Zim?” she asked with a concerned expression.

“Ah, uhm...” she hesitated to answer.

“You don’t need to answer, of course. But you see especially… _stressed._ If you need someone to vent to, I promise I won’t tell him anything!” she stroked her shoulder in a reassuring gesture.

Normally she wasn’t one to expose herself to strangers, but… she could tell that the old lady meant well. What harm could come from venting for a bit? Truthfully, she was desperate for any kind of advice at this point. She would have done well taking the chance now that she could.

“Well… things aren’t… going well at all, to be honest” she stuttered, “We really rushed into this relationship. I, I don’t even know if I can call it a relationship. I don’t even know for sure if he likes about me” she stopped and gulped, trying hard not to cry.

“Ah, I am… kind of envious of you and your husband, to tell the truth. You two seem so close. You’ve spent a lifetime together! How do you know if someone is right for you? How do you know for sure that someone is honest about their feelings for you? And… how do you know if it’s worth to stick by someone? Is it ever worth it if they treat you badly?” she stopped, and let out a nervous laughter, “Haha, I’m sorry I guess I am… kind of rambling now, aren’t I?”

“Don’t worry, dear” the old lady shook her head, speaking with a gentle, understanding voice: “It’s okay to be confused. Feelings are never easy. A relationship takes time and work. We all have our ups and downs. You have to be patient with your lover, provided that he does the same for you”.

“I mean, that’s… the problem” Driver muttered, “He doesn’t really… _reciprocate_ me much”.

“Well, I don’t know you two very well and” she giggled, shaking her head, “I certainly am not a _cannibal_ like _he_ thinks, but Zim did seem very worried and protective around you today, didn’t he?”

“Well, I guess he… did” she reflected.

“I think he’s just a little bad at communicating his feelings. Many men are. The best thing you can do is open yourself up and be honest with him. If there’s love, everything will work out. And if there’s not, well… you’re still so young. You still have a lot of time to find the love you deserve. It might seem all gloomy now, but who knows what the future will bring? You think I would have ever imagined ending up here, leading the best life I could ever ask for, by my love’s side? You can’t now it won’t happen for you too! Have you not gone through horrible times, when you thought everything was hopeless? And yet, here you are. I’m sure not long from now, everything happening right now will look insignificant in the grand scope of things”.

“Hah… thank you, lady” she smiled at her, grateful and genuinely relieved, “I really needed that”.

Margaret suddenly gestured her with her hand to come closer. Then, she spoke quietly, as if she was telling her a secret:

“Actually, me and Ojodfobnogbfnbgogbong used to fight all the time. We had our very worst fight during our honeymoon, in fact. I almost thought of leaving him, back then...”

“Really?” Driver asked surprised, “I would have never guessed. How did you work it out?”

“Well, I know you won’t believe me but… it was the _Lighthouse._ It restored our relationship”

Driver’s hopeful smile faltered.

_Oh, no. Not this again._

“We were caught in the storm during out fight and crashed here, just like you and Zim did. We looked into its Light, and it showed how ridiculously insignificant our quarrels were. It really _is_ a Lighthouse of Love like Ojodfobnogbfnbgogbong says!”

Seeing the doubt on her face, Margaret closed even further, trying to assume a more serious tone:

“I know it’s difficult to understand unless you look at the _Source_ directly. And as the Keeper, I’m not supposed to show you the Light, but I can show you this” she held out her heart-shaped locket, holding it by its chain. “I keep a picture of the Light in here, so that it never really leaves me”.

“You… carry around the picture of a lamp?” she asked, unable to contain her confusion.

Ignoring her question, she opened the locket to her, and to her great surprise, something was _shining_ inside of it.

Curious, she took a closer look. At first, she thought it had to be electronic, but she couldn’t see a lamp, and it didn’t look like neon either: it was as if the smooth surface of the locket’s interior was shining of its _own_ light. Or better yet, of the bright, yellow light of the _lighthouse._

Suddenly, she found herself unable to take her eyes off the light: even though she was staring straight at it it didn’t strain her eyes. And it felt _good._ It felt _relaxing._ She wasn’t exactly feeling ‘love’, but she did feel at _peace._ She knew now what the old lady had meant: she really did feel like all her problems didn’t matter much at all anymore.

She neared her hand, basking it in the light, and found that it was also emanating a pleasant _warmth._ Like a flame that didn’t burn.

 _It’s so, so beautiful,_ she distractedly thought, _Even Zim would have to admit looking at it._

Unconsciously, she got even closer.

She neared both her hands, her back leaned down towards the locket.

She wanted _hold it_ in her own hands. She wanted to _touch it._ She wanted to…

In the distance, the sound of a loud, familiar voice distracted her from her trance. Then, after that, the distinct sound of firing lasers definitely broke her from it.

Startled, her body jerked, like she’d just woken up from a dream.

 _“Whu- what-?”_ she muttered, disoriented, looking at her surroundings.

Doing so, she caught a glimpse of something glimmering up in the air, and she looked up at it:

There was a _dagger_ hovering above her, shining under the ceiling’s light. It was pointed at her. It was being held by a hand, an _alien_ hand.

Her look trailed down from the hand, to its arm, to the person it was attached to: it was _Margaret._

She was still in front of her, but she wasn’t smiling anymore. An astonished, scared look on her face. Her other hand was still holding the luminous heart locket.

They stared at each other like that for a few seconds, both equally surprised by each other.

Finally, Margaret’s lips tentatively curved into a forced smile, and she spoke:

“I’m… I’m not trying to murder you”

“Yes. Yes, you are”

With a swift movement, Driver drew her gun from under her jacket, pointed it at Margaret’s chest and fired.

Margaret displayed again that incredible swiftness and agility and jumped up, avoiding her shot, which struck the wall behind her.

She was so quick, Driver could barely follow that movement; from above her, something made of glass broke, its pieces falling all around her, and the light turned off, throwing the corridor into absolute darkness: she’d broken the ceiling light.

Driver turned to look up: everything was pure, pitch black. The only light present in the corridor was now the heart locket, hanging from Margaret’s neck. Margaret herself was hanging upside down from the ceiling, using her long four legs to keep herself between the walls. Her face was lit by the locket, and since that was the only light source in the darkness, it made it look like a spectral, body-less floating head.

She looked like a completely different person: her expression was cold and emotionless. Her big black eyes looked like two deep, dark pits. And they were hostilely pointed right at her.

Slowly, her mouth opened up. It opened _wider, and wider,_ wider than any human mouth could do, and in the darkness the interior of her mouth too looked completely black, like a black hole ready to swallow her whole.

Driver thought that she would now proceed to scream, but what she did was way, way worse: her throat started vibrating. Gradually, a low, cackling, guttural sound climbed up her throat, making her sound like she was chocking. The sound slowly became louder and louder and shriller and shriller, it filled the pitch black air around her, it filled her ears, it made her bones and her heart reverberate, and eventually it turned into an inhuman, ear-piercing screech that made her very blood _freeze_ in her veins.

 _“O-oh...”_ Driver unintentionally let out. She was so utterly terrified, that she’d forgotten she was holding a gun, she couldn’t run away, she couldn’t even scream.

Her body subconsciously took a step back, and much to her luck, that activated the corresponding ceiling light.

The light turning on finally snapped her out of her paralysis: she raised her gun and finally fired it again with three consecutive shots.

But once again, Margaret was quicker than her: she swiftly stepped back, evading her shots, and landed on the floor far from her, activating the light behind the broken one.

The shots made the ceiling collapse in a heap of rubble and dust.

Driver looked down, and to her horror, rubble wasn’t the only thing that had fallen off: mixed with it, there were also… _bones._

There were bones scattered all over the floor amidst the pieces of the ceiling. Limbs, ribs, and skulls, all alien, and by the look of it, belonging to members of different species.

Her mind immediately went to the couples pictured in the photos in the living room, and that was finally enough to make her shout:

_“AAAH! HOLY SSSHHHH...OOT!”_

The sound of a series of step coming towards her made her head turn up: Margaret was running towards her, growling, disorderly fending the air with the dagger.

Driver shot, aiming for her head, but instead hit her hand as it lowered to swing the dagger, making it fly out of her grasp. Shrilling in pain, Margaret tripped over the heap of rubble and bones and crashed into Driver, making her fall backwards. When she hit the floor, her gun slipped out of her hand.

The massive adrenaline rush she got from that allowed her to roll and get back on her feet quicker than Margaret could, and immediately she bolted away from her as fast as she could, so fast that the automatic lights could barely keep up with her.

As she neared the dim light at the end of the corridor, she realized with horror that that she was running the _wrong_ way: instead of running towards the house, she was running towards the lighthouse.

As she crossed the entrance, she found herself in a dark, circular room. A black, tall pillar was in the center; placed on its top, she could see the spinning light of the lighthouse. A dark spiral staircase was wound around it.

Outside, the wind howled furiously.

Instinctively, she ran up the small metal steps, going incredibly fast for being going upwards, but just when she got halfway through the first curve, she realized that that wasn’t at all the smartest decision to take: climbing up, she was essentially cornering herself further. And besides, Margaret didn’t seem to be following her anymore, so maybe she’d decided she wasn’t worth the try and instead had opted to turn around and help her husband against Zim.

_Oh God, Zim…_

She managed to take one step down the stairs, when Margaret entered the lighthouse from the corridor. She was holding her bleeding, ruined hand, back bent, writhing in pain. From up top, it almost looked like she was crawling on the floor.

Margaret raised her black eyes towards her and stared at her. Then, she let out again that horrible screech, only this time, Driver could have sworn it sounded like a _“YOOOOUUUUU!!!”_

Her hair stood up on her nape, and she let out a strangled yelp; again, she bolted up, running as fast as she could, but now she could hear the steps of the alien, much heavier than the hers, hitting the metal stair, chasing her.

_Oh God Almighty I swear if you let me survive this I’ll dust up the old crucifix I keep in the attic and hang it again in the kitchen and pray to you everyday before bed oh please please please don’t let me die, she prayed._

When she reached the platform at the top, the light of the lighthouse hit her, momentarily disorienting her.

She took a moment to look around herself, searching for someone she could use to defend herself _(oh why did I have to drop the goddamn GUN):_ all around her were glass walls; outside, she could see the storm raging. The wind hit hard on the structure from all sides; she was on semicircular platform whose edge ran along the source of the light: it was nothing but a floating sphere of light; a ray projected out of it, spinning on itself. Standing in front of it, were two chairs.

Immediately, she ran to grab one, and she turned around holding it by its back. But as soon as she did so, Margaret threw herself onto her.

“SON OF A-”

The old alien had jumped with such strength, she made Driver fall butt first onto the floor (ouch); she grabbed the chair by two of its legs, pushing through the pain of her bleeding, shot hand, and pushed down making her head hit the floor (OUCH).

Now Margaret was above her, with only the chair between them. Every now and then, the light of the lighthouse spun and hit them with their light, reminding Driver of one of those cheap thriller movies where the fight scenes had to be lighted sporadically and badly in order to appear exciting. Only in this case, the effect was actually terrifying.

“AAAH! NO, _NO! STOP!”,_ Driver tried to keep her away with the chair.

Margaret struggled furiously against the piece of furniture, grunting, growling, screaming.

 _“I won’t let you have it!”_ the alien-monster screeched, and threw herself towards her face, foaming at the mouth like a rabid animal, _“You won’t have my Light! You will never have it!! Never, never NEVER!!!”_

Driver growled back at her, full of rage herself:

 _“I DON’T WANT YOUR STUPID LIGHT, YOU DUMB OLD CUN-”_ a huge drop of saliva fell from the alien’s mouth right in the middle of her forehead.

“NOOO! YOU’RE _DROOLING_ ON ME! _YOU’RE DROOLING ON ME!!_ FOR THE LOVE OF GOD, STOP THAT, _STOP THAAAT!!!”_ Driver desperately flailed her legs around, she trying to roll from under the monster, but she was just too strong for her.

Margaret let out another screech, and another string of drool dropped on her neck, making her skin crawl in disgust and humiliation.

She couldn’t resist much longer like that. Soon, she would get past that chair. And then-

_She’s gonna eat me alive she’s gonna eat me face first she’s gonna chew on my face with those rotten old teeth and I’m gonna feel all of it oh god OH DEAR LORD_

She felt tears streaming down her cheeks.

Gathering all the breath the could, she screamed, as loud as she could:

_“ZIIIIIIM! ZIM, HELP ME, PLEASE!!!”_

  
  


Zim watched the old she-alien with the ridiculous name walk into the corridor; to ‘check if everything was alright with the miss’, she said.

At first, he considered going after her: she was no doubt trying to catch the Driver-human off guard and alone, but at this point, he was tired of trying to save her: all his exceptionally merciful efforts to help her were met with refusal and insults. If she wanted to die so badly, so be it. What did he care anyway?

And at any rate, were those two even that dangerous? Sure, they were trying to kill them, and they were somehow able to control a storm, but they were also old, and small, and frail and completely insane. As long as the human had her gun, that old senile monster had pretty much no chance against her.

Yup. She was undoubtedly going to be just fine without any need of help from his part.

Meanwhile, the old he-alien with the normal name had finished cleaning up the broken pieces of the cup and the spilled tea; he went back to his place on the couch and raise his own tea cup, blowing on it.

“Aaah, women, am I right?” he sighed, “They always need a friend to accompany them to the bathroom. They feel more secure that way”

“Do they…?”, Zim asked, unsure, “The human managed just fine on her own until now...”

“Oooh, so her species is called ‘human’”, he added sugar to his tea and stirred it, “well, no matter the species, women are all the same. Now, of course, I love my Margaret with all my two hearts, but between you and me, son, sometimes she drives me totally mad”

“Does she...?” Zim asked, “and it’s because she’s a woman?”

Ojodwhatever laughed out loud and then gurgled down his tea in one go. When he was done, he lowered the cup to fill it again.

He strongly nodded, and then added:

“You know how females are. One moment, they are fine. One moment later, it’s like the world is falling apart. And you can bet that they’re going to find a way to blame you for it!”

“Oh”, Zim let out, surprised, “Driver does do that...”

“You do one small little thing, and they overanalyze it and blow it up of proportion”

“That… does sound like her”

“They send you cryptic signals and then expect you to put them together and guess what they are thinking”

“YES! Oh, how I _hate_ when she does that!” Zim exclaimed, excited at having his frustrations validated: the old man may have wanted to kill him, but he did seem to understand what he was going through!

“One moment they are clingy, and the moment after they act like they don’t want to see you ever again...”

Ojodwhatshisname took a cup from the table and handed it over to Zim, who took it without thinking.

“I know exactly what you mean! She acts like _I’m_ the incoherent one, but it’s _she_ who acts completely unpredictable!”

"And as time goes on, they even get worse!” the old man continued, adding sugar again to his tea. “They feel entitled to your person. They want to change you to their liking. They lose any sense of boundaries and try to get inside your head”

“You wouldn’t believe how nosy that human is!” Zim complained, stirring his own tea, “Always asking me how I feel, and what I’m thinking about! Like, get a _real_ hobby!”

“Then again, I wouldn't change Margaret for anyone" the old man smiled, “for love, we can stand this and more”

“Oh, no, no!” Zim shook his head and giggled, “I don’t ‘love’ her. I don’t ‘love’ at all!”

“You don’t, do you?” and then asked with curiosity: “So did you two really meet in a bar?”

“Eh… er… yeah...” Zim admitted.

“Excuse me if I ask, but why did you pick her?”

“Me? No, she picked me! Do you really think that out of all the wretched species in the universe I would have picked a human if I had a choice? They bring nothing but trouble! She wrecked my ship, pointed a gun at me and threatened me, I almost burned alive, AND I ended up here! And then, THEN, when despite all this I still try to help her, she treats me like I'm the crazy, annoying one!” he vented out his frustrations.

"If it wasn't for the sake of the mission, I would have never stuck around her" he mumbled as he blew on his tea.

“Wow. She sounds like a nightmare” the old man said with pity in his voice.

"She is!” Zim nodded.

“Is she good in the bed at least?”

“Uh- in the bed?” Zim confusedly asked. Was he asking him if the human was capable of… lying on a bed?

“Er… yes?” he tried to reply.

The old man snorted and chuckled.

“I see. That’s what they say about crazy women. I think unless she threatens to kill you or something, you should keep doing her. And even then, they’re never serious about it anyway”.

‘Doing her’? Zim didn’t really fully get what he was referring to, but from his tone he understood that what he was saying about the human must have been rather… unflattering.

Suddenly, the sense of comradery he’d felt for the old man turned to discomfort.

“I gotta tell you, though. I think you could do way better” he added.

“What do you mean?” Zim asked.

“Ah, you know, she is kind of...”, he waved his hand in front of his own face, “I mean, let’s be honest, monkeys aren’t exactly a _beacon of beauty,_ are they?”

“… Oh”

“And I’ve heard they’re barely intelligent to even make fire or wheels. I bet she sticks to you because you can drive a ship”

“Well, uh...”

“What they do best is lazying around and drinking their brains out. Though, I suppose _that’s_ why they’re worth keeping around. There’s a time for that for _us_ too, uh? Ah ah ah!” he let out a loud laughter, and then gurgled again all the tea in his cup.

Zim stared at him speechless for a few moments. Then, though he didn’t know why, he felt a strong surge of rage arise from within him.

 _"The Driver-human isn't ugly"_ Zim growled at the old man.

"… What?" he suddenly turned confused and surprised at his reaction.

"And she isn’t _dumb!_ She’s the one that drives the ship!” Zim’s voice became louder and angrier.

“… easy now. I was just saying-”

“She isn’t _lazy_ and she isn’t a _drunkard!”_ Zim interrupted him.

“What I meant was-”

“Humans are _apes,_ not monkeys, _you ignorant dolt!"_ he screamed, "And she isn’t _crazy!_ She’s just _angry_ because I, I-” he scrambled to find the right words, and then finally concluded:

“Because I treated her _badly_ earlier!"

“You should calm down, pal” the Ojodetcetera murmured, his smile completely gone from his face. “There’s no reason to get angry. Here, _look”_ , he took his heart-locket in his hand and showed it to Zim.

_“Look at the Light. You’ll surely feel better then”._

_“What li-”_

He opened the locket and it shone brighter than any of the lamps in that room. Zim stared at it, surprised: that was no regular light. It was of the same kind of the one in the light-house: he could _feel_ it.

He couldn’t really turn his eyes away from it, but it wasn’t making him any less angry. All it was doing for him was making his head spin and his guts feel nauseous.

“There, see? Everything’s okay now” the Ojod said with a soothing voice, “Why don’t you drink your tea now?”

“Tea…?” Zim looked down to find that he was holding a full tea cup in his hands.

“AAAH! Who put this here?!” Zim exclaimed, “You were trying to get me to drink it, weren't you? This stuff IS poisoned, isn't it?

"... no it isn't"

_"HA, I KNEW IT!"_

Zim threw the cup at the Ojod-man; he avoided it with unexpectedly quick reflexes.

Then, with even more unexpected speed, he stepped on the tea table, making the tray and its content fall and crash onto the ground, and launched himself onto him.

Zim drew out his PAK legs, but wasn’t quick enough to avoid the old man falling onto him: they both fell backwards, the sofa flipping on its back under their weight.

Zim hit this head on the floor behind him and let out a pained grunt; through teary eyes, he could see the old man’s disgusting head on his chest; he fired his lasers, but none were in the position to hit the aggressor.

"You should have just drunk the tea" he growled raising both his head and his hand: he was still holding his own tea cup.

Zim followed his movements and miraculously managed to dodge most of the cup when he tried to smash it on his face: he heard a loud sound of crashing ceramic right next to his left ear, and felt a sharp pain in the corresponding cheek.

“AARGH! LET GO OF ME!” he shouted, enraged and panicked.

The old man swiftly grabbed two of his PAK legs with his hands, pointing them away from himself; he blocked the other two using his legs. The horrible shining locket swung in front of Zim’s face, making his head spin even faster.

Far, from the corridor, he could hear the familiar gunshot of Driver’s gun come. Zim’s panic grew even more.

“GET OFF ME! _Get off me, you CREEP!”_ Zim struggled and fired more unsuccessful shots.

“Accept the Light, son” the old man chanted. _“Accept it...”_

Zim heard a terrifying howl coming from the corridor, followed by more gunshots.

Then, a female, human voice screamed.

 _"NO! WHAT ARE YOU DOING TO HER?!"_ Zim shouted.

Above them, Zim’s legs finally hit a right target: the chandelier that hung above them broke and fell right onto the monster’s head. That disoriented him enough to slacken his grip on his legs.

Zim took the chance to punch him as hard as he could in his ugly old face; the Ojod-monster gave out a pained shriek, rolling on his side, and he finally managed to escape from under his body.

Finally free, Zim immediately got on his PAK legs and ran towards the corridor, screaming:

"Driver! Driver, where are you?!"

He ran along the dark tunnel, the lights progressively lighting up as he proceeded. When he was about in the middle of it, he caught a glimpse of a heap of something on the floor. When he got close enough for the ceiling lights to shine on it, it turned out to be rubble mixed with... bones. Not far from them, he saw Driver’s ray gun.

Zim fell on his knees, absolutely heartbroken and in despair.

"OH NO! _NO!”_ he lamented, _“I'm too late! They killed her, cloned her, ate her flesh down to the bone, and then deformed her cloned dead bodies into different species in order to mess with me! How CRUEL! Why, oh WHY?!"_

  
  


  
  


  
  


  
  


  
  


"... This... is not Driver's corpse, is it?"

As to confirm his brilliant deduction, he heard the Driver scream again from the other side of the tunnel. Along with the same demon screech as earlier.

Enormously relieved, he ran again, picking up the gun as he passed past it, up to the end of the corridor and into the light-house tower.

He followed the sounds of steps going up the spiral staircase; from above, he could hear the Driver-human’s desperate screams, and he felt his guts clench at that.

When he finally reached the top of the tower, he saw her struggling on the floor, under the old she-beast’s attacks.

 _“ZIIIIIIM! ZIM, HELP ME, PLEASE!!!”_ she screamed, unaware of his presence, and Zim felt an even greater fury against the horrible monster.

 _"LEAVE HER ALONE!"_ Zim launched himself as as hard as he could against the monster’s body: she rolled away on her side, letting out a surprised and angry screech, and stopped right on the edge of the platform, in front the source of that horrible spinning light.

Zim landed in front of the human and pointed her gun against the beast, posing himself in a defensive, threatening stance.

The monster slowly got up on her horrible four legs and eyed him with a look full of anger and hatred, foam streaming down her mouth.

"DON’T MOVE!” he threatened her, “I KNEW you were trying to kill us! How foolish of you to go against the great and powerful ZiM! Well, now you are at my mercy! And after all you’ve done, don’t expect any of-"

"AAAARGH!!!" Driver bolted past him screaming at the top of her lungs, and charged the old alien holding a chair: she hit her on her chest and shoulder, pushing her off the edge of the platform.

The alien let out one last surprised, alarmed yelp, before falling onto the floating ball of energy behind her: her whole body was instantly pulverized by it the moment it touched it.

"WOAH!" Zim exclaimed.

He approached the human from behind. She was still holding the chair and looking at the light, panting heavily and loudly, her body trembling.

"I knew this thing was dangerous!" he said looking at the spinning light of death. He then turned to the human: "You didn't need to do that, by the way. I had everything under- _oh"_

The light of death span on itself and shone on Driver's face: she looked _terrible._

Her face was pale and soaked with with sweat and tears and a slick substance he wasn’t sure he wanted to know what it was. Her eyes were wide open, and he could tell that she’d just cried, and she looked absolutely terrified out of her mind; her entire body was shivering so much, even the chair she was holding was trembling, and she had difficulty breathing.

"Are... are you okay?" he dared to ask.

"NO! NO I'M NOT OKAY!” she shrieked, dropping the chair on the ground, “THAT THING TRIED TO EAT ME ALIVE! AND SHE DROOLED ON ME! _SHE DROOLED ON MY FACE! SHE DROOLED ON MY HAIR!”,_ she shouted as she spasmodically passed her hands on her face in an attempt to clean it.

Looking more and more panicked, her hands trailed down from her face, to her neck, to her chest.

“A-and, oh _GOD, the drool is now streaming down my chest! It’s on my BOOBS! I HAVE MONSTER DROOL ON MY BOOBS!!!"_

The human flopped on the floor, her trembling legs unable to support her weight. Slowly and weakly, she raised a shivering hand in front of him.

"H-hold m-my hand" she stuttered.

"Eh-"

 _"PLEASE, HOLD MY HAND!"_ she desperately shouted, going then into a hyperventilating fit.

Immediately, he grabbed her hand: she’d screamed so loud, even he’d been scared.

Initially, she squeezed it so much it hurt him. She was trembling so strong, it was making his arm shake too.

Up until now, from the moment they’d stepped on that cursed platform, he’d eagerly waited for the moment when he could boast to her for being right about the murderous intentions of the two old monsters, but now that he saw her like that, terrified and on the verge of crying, all he could feel was pity and compassion for her.

He uncomfortably looked left and right, trying to think of a way to calm her down.

"Eh... come on, human. Don't worry. You're safe now. She's dead" he tried.

“I’m… I’m so… so _gross”_ she sobbed.

“You’re not… gross. It’s just the drool on you! I’m sure it will come off easy with enough water and soap”

“A-ah, I… oh God, this is so _embarrassing…”_ she closed her eyes and turned her face away from him.

 _“I wanna die...”_ she choked out.

Zim felt his guts churn in discomfort at those words.

“Oh, human, no… er...”

Compassion was such a horrible feeling to feel. And why was consoling people so damn hard?

Imitating a move he’d seen back on Earth, he patted on her back. It might have been too strong for her frail human ribcage, because she gave a couple of coughs when he did so.

“Don’t… die” Zim muttered, “I came all this way for you not to do just that”.

That seemed to work: slowly, her grip on his hand softened, and her heavy breathing slowed down.

"... Zim, you... you saved my life" she finally mumbled in a quiet, timid voice.

… he had?

"Uh... yes, I... did" he said, surprised at his own actions.

"Why?" she asked.

"Ah, I... I guess... I didn't want you to... die", he explained, more to himself than to her.

"Zim, I'm... _I'm so, so sorry”_ she apologized, her eyes watering again, “I treated you terribly, I... I should have listened to you. I put us both in danger. I knew something was up, but I ignored it because… because- oh, _I'm so, so stupid. Please, forgive me"_ she pleaded to him.

"Eh, it's... don't worry, it's okay” he shook his head, unable look directly at her sad eyes, “I... didn't act... very fair to you either today".

The human let go of his hand, placing her own on the ground. She seemed to have finally calmed down.

“Here”, Zim handed the ray gun back to her.

"Ah... thank you" she said as she took it.

"Wait... where's the _other one?"_

 _"Ah, Margaret"_ a deep, somber voice resonated from the stairs: the Ojod-thing had reached the platform.

"Look what they've done to you".

He took a couple of steps towards them. Smears of dark blood were around hisnnose and mouth, due to the punch Zim had given him. The spinning light intermittently shone on him, making him look like a ghostly apparition.

 _“You”_ Zim growled with anger, positioning himself in front of the human.

"But that's okay!” the alien sighed, “She's one with the Light now. Now she’s happy. Now she'll never die".

He then turned his attention to them, and spoke:

“The tea trick had never failed. And the Love Locket, especially, had never failed. You must be seriously not right in the head not to succumb to its power, young man”.

“Ha! My head is just too superior for your stupid light tricks!” Zim boasted.

“No, I’m serious. It’s not a good thing. There’s something seriously wrong with you, son. Only a madman would be turned off by the literal Light of Peace”.

“You’re just jealous of my awesome brain power!” Zim puffed his chest pridefully.

The old man stopped walking towards them. He conjoined his hands, staring at them still. Then, he spoke again:

"I suppose you're both wondering: ‘why?’ ‘Why all of this?’ ‘What's the meaning of all of this?’ Well, that I shall explain it to you. It all started centuries ago, when-"

Driver swung her gun up and shot him right in the middle of the face: it exploded in a million little pieces. The old man’s body fell lifeless on the floor.

"AAAH!” Zim exclaimed, surprised, _“Why_ did you do that?!"

"Oh, man. Sorry. You were interested in what he was saying?"

"I... well, no, but that was _startling!”_ Zim explained, “You're very quick with that gun".

 _"Not quick enough"_ she growled.

She stuck a hand under her shirt, and when she drew it out, it was covered in slick, gross alien saliva. Disgusted, she wiped her hand on the floor.

"Pfff... hehehe… hahaha" the human slowly started laughing. She didn’t sound very happy, though. In fact, she sounded a bit _hysterical._

"What’s so funny?" he asked.

"Haha, I'm sorry, it's just... we- uhuhuh, we are _alive,_ and- and they are _dead!_ Hahaha! Plus, plus, when the husband’s head exploded it reminded me of a vine”.

Zim had no idea what the latter thing meant, but he agreed with the first statement: that _was_ pretty hilarious.

“Hehehe, you're right!" he giggled.

"Hahaha!" she laughed harder.

“Gyahahaha!” he followed, his laughter fueled by hers.

“Hahahahaha!”

Their loud laughter resounded in unison, filling the empty, dark space of light-house tower. It was a sound so strong, so triumphant, so full of life, it managed to suffocate the furious winds outside- yes, this was _their triumph,_ over the stupid ‘peace-light’ of the tower, over the storm, over the darkness – they had overcome _all_ of them! Who knew that a victory shared with someone else could still feel so _complete?_

Looking at the human, laughing so hard that she had to keep her hands on her hurting stomach, Zim now understood what she'd meant when she'd said that seeing him laughing made her want to kiss him.

And he would have gladly done it too, if it wasn’t for the drool covering her face.

“He- h-hey, Zim, are you hurt?” the human asked when she finally managed to stop laughing, pointing at his cheek.

Zim touched his left cheek and cringed at the pain he felt: he’d completely forgotten about the cut the old Ojod had given him.

“It’s nothing. It will heal in less than a day” he reassured her.

The human lovingly smiled at him.

“My brave soldier, risking his life for me”.

“Eh… ‘your’?” Zim’s cheeks flared up, his guts inexplicably feeling all pleasantly light and warm.

The human leaned in, and kissed him on his hurt cheek.

"Thank you for not leaving me behind" she thanked him.

"A-ah, er, n-no, no problem, really! It wasn’t anything much for me!" he giddily smiled.

Finally, the human found the strength and the balance to get up on her feet.

"What do you think that light is?" she asked him, looking at it, shining behind her.

"I don't know. It looks _horrible"_

"It's kind of pretty, actually, I think" she absentmindedly murmured.

"Don't be creepy, human” he berated her, “Maybe it's better if we destroy it".

"I think it's best if we don't touch it" she said, and he had to agree with her on that one.

The human put the gun back in its holster; then, she smiled again at him.

"Come on, Zim. I want to rob the house, then set it on fire"

 _“Oh, sweet!”_ Zim excitedly exclaimed.

They started climbing down the stairs, stumbling and giggling in the darkness.

Outside, the wind whistled gently: the storm had finally calmed down.


	14. A Promise of Honesty

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Zim and Driver finally find the courage to be open and honest to one another.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a more dialogue-heavy chapter. Hope you like it.
> 
> Oh, and. Real talk. When I asked my audience to be a bit more responsive to this fic I didn't expect such a massive wave of support. I'm truly humbled by all your kindness. To be truthful, this fic is kind of a coping mechanism for me atm and... haha, I don't know. Knowing that people are actually enjoying it and taking their time to express it has been such. An amazing experience. :') Thank you, to every single one of you, from the bottom of my heart.

Driver had set out to rob the house, but it turned out to be more like an excuse to _thrash it:_ as she and Zim searched the living room, kitchen and even bathroom for anything remotely valuable, they pulled every single drawer out of its chest and emptied it of its content by simply flipping it over and shaking it; anything that could be easily broken, from plates, to glasses, to knick-knacks, to all the windows, they broke, all the while joking and laughing in utmost vengeful glee.

In the end, though, they _did_ manage to gather some valuables: the old expensive cutlery in the cupboard, the ten best pictures of the lighthouse hanging in the living room, the camera of the old man, food (and thank the Universe they didn't find a _frozen body_ in the fridge like they'd expected), even a modest stash of monies hidden under one of the sofas. Driver placed all these objects in an emptied out drawer taken from the kitchen, with the intention of taking it away on the ship and eventually sell them; finally, for some reason still unknown to him (as he doubted she could possibly sell those), she also added all the photos of the murdered couples to the loot.

Once they were done with the main house, Driver asked him to accompany her back to the actual light-house; that, too, confused him at first: the only objects that he’d noticed over there were the two chairs and the horrible spinning light on its top; ultimately, though, confiding in her criminal scavenging intuition, he decided to follow her. 

The human led him again up the spiral staircase: now that everything was calm and quiet, Zim found that dark place even creepier than before.

As they reached the platform at the top of the tower, illuminated by the _spinning light of death,_ Zim expected for one second that the Ojod-thing's dead corpse would actually turn out to be still alive and ready to jump on them as soon as they climbed all the stairs; but of course, not many species could survive with their face blown up: the dead body was still there, face down, in the exact same position they'd left it in.

The light of the light-house hit his eyes and made his head spin; he shielded his face with his hand, and tried to concentrate his gaze on the human.

Much to his disgust, though, she knelt next to the old man's body and started searching it.

“Ewww!" Zim winced, "Do you _have_ to do that? Haven't we gathered enough monies from the rest of the house?”

“That’s not what I’m after” she replied, “Can you help me flip him over?"

Zim answered to her with an extremely disgusted grimace.

"Oh, don’t be so squeamish” she smirked, “at least _you_ are wearing gloves! I swear, it will be worth it!"

 _I also wouldn’t worry much about hygiene if I was already covered in drool,_ he thought.

But thinking about how awful of an experience the Driver-human had just gone through... maybe, just this once, he might as well indulge her in her dirty, gross efforts. _Just_ this once.

Full of repulsion, he reluctantly knelt to the other side of the body and helped her flip it upside down, exposing its... well… what little remained of its face to the air.

When they did so, she carefully removed the locket from its neck.

“What are you doing with that? You’re not going to wear it, are you?” he asked, afraid that she might have ended up catching the same type of madness the old couple had.

“Or course not. I just figured it might come in handy” she explained as she put it in a pocket on the back of her pants, “I wish the other one didn’t get vaporized. We could have sold one and kept the other. Or we could have kept one each”.

“I _certainly_ wouldn’t want it even if it was here!" he retorted, "Do as you wish, but keep that thing _very_ away from me”

“Don’t worry, I’ll put it in the ship’s safe right after I’m done” she assured him. And then she added with a giggle: "Wearing it would make me look like Frodo and the Ring...”

“But... you don’t wear rings around your neck”

“Oh, boy Zim, hahaha!" she chuckled, "Have you ever even been on Earth?"

"Should I know who that is...?"

Instead of answering, the human wielded the instant camera she'd brought along from the living room, deactivated the flash function, and pointed it straight at the light of the light-house. She took a photo: the sheet that came out of the camera was shining of its own light instead of being black.

 _“I knew it"_ she smirked, _"This_ is how they made the lockets”.

"Okay, now _that_ is creepy" Zim took a few steps out "Should I worry that you'll try to eat me alive now?"

"Oh, no, don't worry. I'm safe, I think. I'm pretty sure the _spell_ only works if you're unprepared. Or if you _want_ it to work" the human let the shining photo fall on the floor and took another photo.

"What _spell?"_ Zim asked; the only 'spell' that light was able to cast on him was making him feel like _barfing._ If he wasn't charmed by it like everybody else seemed to be, it must have been due to his exceedingly strong, smart brain. 

"In any case, you shouldn't be looking at that light. It can't be good for you! You're gonna fry your brain! Can't we just go on the ship and... fly away, maybe? _Anything_ that doesn't involve _being in this room?"_ he tried to plea to her again, getting more and more anxious.

“I'm fine, Zim. I don't think this place alone is dangerous" she murmured as she took yet another photo, "Besides, if you wanna survive in space with a job like mine, you gotta start considering all the ways _any_ object could _ever_ be valuable to you. And _snatch away_ as much as you can. Especially if the object in question is one of a kind like _this one”._

“One of a kind or not, I think it would be best to just blow this whole place up and the light with it” he stated crossing his arms in disapproval.

“Oh, _that_ we’re absolutely going to do” she agreed and turned to look at him with an evil smirk, “I’m sure the whole _shack_ will _burn_ nice and good. I just wish _those two_ were still alive to burn with it”.

The light span on her face as she finished the sentence, making her expression look even more malicious, and Zim stared at her in absolute awe, even after she turned again to take more photos. _Oh,_ if she wasn’t covered in revolting demon saliva…

In the end, Driver managed to collect nine luminous photos before the camera ran out of roll. As they left the tower, Zim wondered if the light had heard their plans of blowing the whole place up, and if it would try to stop them. But of course, that was a _ridiculous_ thought. A light couldn’t _think_ … right?

When they returned to the main house, they brought the drawer with the loot in it outside, momentarily leaving it on the ground a good thirty feet from the building.

As they went out in the open, they noticed that the wind had dropped to a light breeze; the mist was completely gone, vanished into nothing, like it had never been there in the first place, and they both sighed in great relief.

As a finishing touch, they retrieved a fuel tank from the ship and poured it all over the floors of the kitchen and the living room; then, on their way out, Driver used a lighter to light it all up: the fuel instantly burned with a big, blue fame, which started consuming its surroundings. Satisfied, they finally left the house for good to admire the results of their efforts.

Driver promptly headed to the drawer she'd left on the ground and drew out all the photos of the dead couples, placing them in three straight rows on the floor, their backs turned to the now burning house.

“Why are you doing that?”, Zim asked.

“I just thought, if those two _maniacs_ were never found out, then nobody really knows what has come of these people. But if somebody ever stumbles upon this place and sees the photos, then their friends and families might finally come to know what happened to them. Of course, provided that there's still someone alive who cares about them".

“Oooh. But… why do you care?”

“Mmmh… well… _compassion,_ I guess? I mean, look at them. They’re all _smiling._ They probably never suspected the two old crazies until the very last minute. They were just like us, but they still died...” she smiled melancholically, “Can you imagine if we'd died here and somebody other than me did this? We would be the only non-smiling couple of the bunch”.

“That’s because we aren't like them!” Zim asserted, “We are obviously the _superior_ couple. That’s why we won”.

“Oh” she smirked, “so we are a couple now?”

“Er… I-I mean, ‘couple’ as in, ‘two people considered at the same time’. I-it's just how grammar works” he explained, having realized the uncomfortable implication of what he’d said.

“Sure” she giggled.

The Driver-human stood up and joined her hands together, palm against palm.

“How about a minute of silence in their honor?”

Zim remembered that human tradition: he himself had done a minute of silence before, back at Skool. In honor of some workers who’d died in an accident in the local hot-dogs factory. He recalled having thought of a plan to blow up all the hot-dogs factories on the planet the whole time it lasted.

Seeing the human being so considerate and compassionate of others after her _vengeful spree_ was weird, but from her expression he could see that it was a very serious, important matter to her.

“Oh, well… alright” he consented, joining his hands like the human was doing.

Meanwhile, the house was _really_ burning fast: already he could see the flames rising inside from the broken windows and the open main door. Soon, a copious amount of black smoke started filling the interior, flying out of every opening.

When the human confirmed from her watch that the minute had passed, she signed herself in four points (shoulders, torso and head) with her right hand, then kissed it, and finally murmured, in a language that Zim had never heard: _"Requiescant in pace. Amen"._

Zim awkwardly tried to imitate her movements, mumbling under his breath a very botched repetition of her words.

“I’m going to wash this… _stuff_ off myself” the human said, "You gonna stay here and watch the fire?"

“Oh, yeah" Zim nodded, "You go ahead. Have a nice _cleaning session”._

And with that, she went back into the ship, carrying the drawer with the loot with her.

Zim admired the house burning up with immense satisfaction: seeing the belongings of his enemies burn down was always such a _refreshing_ (pun intended) experience. He’d hoped the human would want to witness it with him, but if he was covered in drool he too would have probably rather washed himself as soon as possible.

The flames slowly rose, consuming the wretched building; in about half a hour, it was completely engulfed in them. Zim watched the whole process very attentively, never once turning his eyes from it, eager to later describe it to the Driver-human.

The human, on her part, took her sweet time scrubbing the _drooly stuff_ off herself, because when she was done (although he didn’t exactly pay attention to the time) it was already the time that they during their sun-less, planet-less journey had been considering ‘evening’.

When she peeked out of the ship's door, above him, on top of the stairs that led to the space platform, she was clean again, just like she'd been a few hours before, but she looked distinctly _tired._ And _pale._ And she had another change of clothes on.

“It came all off” she announced, voice full of relief.

“Oh, good!” he smiled, head turned up at her, “Come here and watch the fire! It really is burning nice and good like you said! You missed the beginning, but I can still describe it to you! And there's still a lot left to burn!"

“Ah... yes. I can see that” she said. Strangely though, her voice lacked enthusiasm. And she _wasn't_ smiling.

“Actually, I think I’ll go on the roof and watch from there.”

“Oh... o...kay" Zim replied, a hint of worry in his voice, "Uh... it's... it's almost mealtime. You want to have dinner while we watch? We can carry the plates on the roof and then-"

“Sorry, I’m not hungry" she shook her head with a depressed, mopey look on her face "Uhm... Zim, when you can, can you please follow me on the roof? I have something important to talk to you about”.

Oh. So that's what it was all about.

Zim started cold sweating. _This can't be good,_ he thought.

“Al... alright, human” Zim nodded, still trying to smile at her.

The Driver-human turned back and disappeared back into the ship.

Zim turned his head down. worried and anxious.

He didn’t understand. He’d assumed that after that positive, murderous _bonding experience_ everything would come back to normal, and yet the human seemed to be feeling even more down than she did before.

Whatever _was_ her deal? Was it not enough that he’d _saved her life?_ She should well be happy that she was still alive _and_ that she’d killed _two_ enemies in the span of a couple of minutes! _He_ would be, for sure!

Did that mean that he wasn’t in the clear yet? If now he went on the roof and talked to her, would she get angry at him again? The thought of her lashing out at him like she'd done earlier made him feel uneasy to the point of _fear_ to confront her again.

Then again, the human didn't seem angry, but rather sad. So maybe he _was_ safe from any possible rage outburst after all?

It was at that point that it _hit_ him: the human wasn’t just angry at what he’d said to her. She was first and foremost… _sad._ And _hurt._ He was sure of it now, because he _too_ had felt sad and hurt when she'd lashed out at him. If _she_ had told _him_ that she hated him and didn't care about him straight to his face, it would have hurt so much he would have probably never recovered.

 _I’ve hurt the Driver-human,_ he thought, and that realization stung in his heart like an actual needle had just been inserted inside his chest. 

_Remorse_ was probably the rarest emotion he ever got to experience, but it was unmistakably what he was feeling at that moment.

And it was so _unexpected_ too, because for a long time, just until a few hours prior in fact, he’d believed that was _exactly_ what he wanted to do: ever since he’d met her he’d felt a profound _resentment_ against her, for making him _feel_ so much… _weird, uncomfortable… stuff._ Now he’d managed to finally make her equally as uncomfortable as he was, so much so that she apparently didn’t want to do the make-out with him anymore, and yet, that didn’t feel at all like _an accomplishment._

It didn’t feel _good_ in the first place. It felt _bad._ A distinctly _bad_ kind of _bad._ _So bad_ it made him feel physically sick.

Zim let out a deep sigh. There was no other way he could be relieved of that horrible sensation, was there?

He was going to have _to swallow his pride and say sorry to her._

Of course, apologizing was one of his most _least_ favorite things in _all_ existence, but at that moment, knowing that he was on the human’s bad side was somehow even _worse:_ he _needed_ to set things right between them as soon as possible.

Zim climbed up the stairs and entered the ship; in the control room, the human had pulled out the ladder that led to the roof's hatch.

He climbed the ladder too, and heaved himself onto the roof: the human was sitting a few feet away from there, legs crossed, facing the burning building. The bright, warm light of the fire illuminated her pensive, somber face.

Feeling as anxious and nervous as ever, Zim walked towards her, trying his hardest to keep his cool.

He stopped and stood to the human’s right, waiting for her to greet him in some way, but even though the human must have surely sensed his presence, she didn’t acknowledge it in any way, keeping her gaze pointed straight at the burning building.

_Not a good sign at all._

Zim cleared his throat, swung himself on his feet, and placed his hands behind his back, back straightened, chest out and chin high, like he would have done during a military report.

 _“Driver-human”_ he spoke with a clear voice, trying to convey all his remaining confidence into his speech, “before you say anything, I just wanted to clarify that, after _careful_ reevaluation, I now realize that all the _derogatory statements_ I made against you today were _unfounded and unjustified,_ and I therefore no longer stand by them”.

The human said nothing. She just kept staring in front of her with the same worried, sad expression.

Maybe he'd been too formal.

“Uhm… what that means is… I'm taking back all the bad things I said to you earlier” he explained, just in case that she didn’t understand his elaborate military speech.

Still no reaction whatsoever. Maybe she was so absorbed in watching the fire that she didn't hear him?

“Human?” he called her.

That explanation didn't hold, as the human sighed quietly at the sound of his voice: she looked down, and started fiddling with her hands in her lap, as she used to do whenever she felt anxious.

Zim swallowed, his throat uncomfortably dry. He moved his hands from behind his back back to the front, and awkwardly tugged at the edge of his tunic.

“What I’m trying to say is, I didn’t _really_ mean any of it” he said, sounding quieter and more apologetic, “They were _lies,_ okay? I don’t… really...” he swallowed again.

Telling the truth was always so, so _hard._

“I don’t really _hate_ you, human. I don’t _really_ … uhm... mind you… _that_ much" he finally admitted.

The human's expression furrowed at that statement, looking possibly even sadder than before.

Guilt and anxiety made his heart race. He was almost sure now, that if he ended up making the human cry, he would have never forgiven himself for that.

“Driver, _I’m sorry._ I _really_ am” he pleaded, trying his hardest not to stutter, _“Please,_ don’t be angry at me”.

The human sighed again. Then, she finally spoke:

“Zim, I don’t deserve your apology. I’m… I’m a horrible person”

“… what?” he asked, completely surprised and confused, and yet a bit... _relieved_ by those words. At the very least, there seemed not to be any more angry insults coming his way. 

She slowly turned her face to him. For a second, she lifted her eyes up to look at him, and he could see that they were shiny, as though she was just about to cry again. Immediately, she turned her gaze down again.

“The… the truth is, I’ve been _lying_ to you” she stammered.

“Do you… remember, back at my house, when you asked me if I could contact the Boss so you could ask him about the space sacks? And I said I couldn’t because of job risks? That was a _lie._ I lied because… I was afraid if you got an answer, you’d just leave. A-and we were just beginning to reconnect… haha. Oh, man” she nervously laughed; she collected her legs against her chest and hugged her knees, looking away from him again. “Now that I’m saying it out loud, it sounds even more _entitled and creepier_ than I thought...”

Zim tried speaking, but she went on, her voice becoming more frantic:

“But that’s not all. This morning… I really _was_ speaking to the Boss about you. He… suggested that… that I’m only staying with you because of the monies and the machine. But I swear that is _not_ true!” she raised her voice with the last sentence. “I _really, genuinely do_ care about you!”

 _“Haha!”_ Zim burst, “I KNEW that _sneaky weaseloid_ was trying to discredit me in front of you! He _knew_ he stood no chance against the almighty, _endlessly-charming ZiM!_ That’s why he had to resolve to _deception!_ I bet he doesn’t even dislike _greasy food!”_

“Is _that_ why you were upset all day?" he smiled at her, "Oh, _come on,_ human, I think you and I both know very well that your _obsessive infatuation_ for me isn’t motivated by monies! Really, you’ve made a fuss over nothing! Who cares what _he_ thinks?”

The human finally turned to look directly at him, brows furrowed in a doubtful expression.

"You're not angry that I _lied_ to you?" she asked.

"Oh, human I knew you were hiding _something._ It was _apparent!_ I just didn't know _exactly_ what it was! But don't worry" he waved his hand dismissively, "I know you humans are a race of _pathological liars!_ That's okay. Your pathetic little secret schemes could never really harm my genius in any significant way!"

"No, Zim, this isn't _okay_ at all!" she protested, "What I did to you was awful on every level! I kept enticing you into _making out_ and being _intimate_ with me while I was hiding something from you! Even though I _knew_ how important your mission is to you... even though I knew how inexperienced and vulnerable you are-"

 _"Hey!_ I am NOT vuln-"

"That is why I tried to push you away!" she interrupted him, "I felt like I was... like I was exploiting you. It didn't _feel_ right. I... I don't think it was ever right", she shook her head.

"If you say you don't like me, _I shouldn't question it._ If you say that alcohol caused your PAK to make you want to kiss me, _I should believe it"_ she stated in a firmer voice, "the last thing I wanted was to make you do something you didn't want to, but I ended up doing just that".

"Ah..." Zim looked left and right, suddenly regretting how horrible of a thing he'd made kissing out to be in front of her. "W-well, I mean, that _is_ true, but-"

"Here" the human turned her whole body to him; she reached into a pocket in the interior of her jacket, and drew out the key and the coordinates to the laboratory the Krass-man had given her.

She took one of his hands, and placed the objects into it.

"Take your Voot Cruiser. Go to the lab, take what you need to build the machine and then hide somewhere until it's ready" she said.

Zim stared at her for a moment. Then looked at the key and the paper she'd placed into his hand. Then back at her.

“Uh… you mean… alone?” he asked.

“Yes" she nodded, a secure expression on her face, "I’ve stalled your mission _far enough_ already. You’ll go way faster without me. And besides, you have the monies Mister Krassmann gave you, right? You don’t need my help for anything anymore”.

Zim looked back down at the key he was holding.

He tried to conjure any logical retort to that, but he found none.

She has right: he had no use for her anymore. In fact, why hadn’t he thought of just stealing the key and the coordinates and fly away on his own in the first place?

“You… you are _right”_ he had no choice but to agree.

“But… what are you gonna do with the Krass-man? Isn’t he gonna be mad that you’ve got no machine to give him?”

“Oh, don’t worry about that” she forced out a smile, “I know him well. I can handle him. I will come up with an excuse. Just make sure to be quick, taking away what you need from the lab. And to hide very, _very_ well afterwards. With the machine, even the Boss won't be able to catch you. And after a while, he'll give up getting revenge on you... probably”.

“I… I don’t understand this at all” he stammered, shaking his head as to clean his mind for all the confusion, _“why_ are you doing this? You had _every_ reason not to tell me any of this!”

“This... ah, this is just the _right_ thing to do” she explained, shrugging her shoulders.

"And besides… nothing that is built on a _lie_ can last. It was very, very naive of me to ever believe that” she then added with a much more thoughtful expression.

“I… suppose… it can’t" he muttered, though... he still didn't _quite_ understand what exactly was going on at the moment. Particularly, what exactly he was _feeling_ at the moment.

Guessing that maybe the right emotion to feel at such a time was gratitude, he finally murmured an unsure:

"Uh… thanks...?”

The human softly smiled at him, but she didn’t seem to be happy at all.

“Take care, Zim. And when you’re in the clear, write to me- I mean, _if you want._ But, you know. I’d like to hear from you some time. Ehh… oh oh, man, this is awkward” she chuckled, scratching a side of her neck.

“Very” he agreed.

They both lifted their gazes and looked into each other’s eyes, an enigmatic expression on both their faces. It was like they were both unsure on what expression they should have assumed.

 _Wait. Wait. Is this really happening?,_ Zim confusedly thought, _We're just going to part? Like this? All of a sudden? After all this time together, it's gonna end with such a short conversation? I should say something. I barely said anything. I let her do all the talk. I feel... I feel I have more to say. I should say it right now, before she-_

“Well… goodbye, Zim” the human said.

“… goodbye” his mouth mechanically answered.

Without having any meaningful control on his own legs, Zim turned around and started walking towards the hatch, headed to retrieve his Voot Cruiser.

He's always imagined that the moment he would have not had to work with the human would have been a happy one, but it just felt... _empty_.

But this was the right thing to do, right? He would be much faster and efficient on his own. And after all, Invaders didn't need help. Invaders didn't need _partners._

Invaders worked _alone._

That's right, _alone..._

Zim imagined spending even more weeks alone in space, without a place to come back to or even one single person to talk to.

He imagined not being able to see or touch the human ever again. For eternity.

And he imagined what kind of trouble she would have been in when the Krass-monster found about all she'd done for his sake.

Zim stopped, a foot on the edge of the opened hatch.

For all the still-lingering confusion, he was now dead sure of one thing: that was not _at all_ what he wanted.

It was so _far_ from what he wanted that the thought of going through with it was setting him into a panic. 

Still, he tried to force a foot on the first step of the ladder leading down inside the ship.

 _This is so stupid. This makes no sense. She is just a human. You should be happy to get rid of her!,_ he tried to convince himself.

But his foot refused to move. His very body refused to climb down the ladder.

He strongly pressed his eyes closed, and emitted a frustrated grunt.

_Just climb down the stupid ladder. The important thing right now is not looking at her. If you look at her now, you won't ever be able to leave-_

Slowly, his treacherous head turned around to look over his shoulder: the human was sitting with her legs crossed again, looking at the burning house.

There were actual tears in her eyes. 

She looked sad.

She looked... lonely.

Zim's body turned around and practically ran back to her. 

An expression of utmost surprise on her face, the human turned to him at the sound of his running steps, and gave him a questioning, confused look.

"What?" she asked, "You don't remember how to open the cell where your Cruiser is?"

"I- oh, I don't care about _the stupid Cruiser_ right now!" Zim exclaimed in frustration. 

He stopped, a few feet away from the human.

"Look, human, I... I..." Zim started to stutter.

He took a deep breath, gathering all his courage. He couldn't hesitate, not now that he was standing like that in front of her.

Finally, he let out all of his thoughts:

"ZiM... _ZiM has never done anything he doesn't want to!"_ he declared in a loud shout.

The human blinked in surprise. She stared at him, attentive and confused at once.

"Kissing... kissing you... isn't... oh, FINE!" he shouted even louder, eyes closed to avoid looking at her as he revealed his most embarrassing secret, _"I LIKE KISSING YOU!_ I - LIKE IT! I REALLY DO! I _LIKE_ THE SENSATION OF YOUR _APE LIPS_ ON MY OWN LIPS! I-It's MOIST, and GROSS, and UNSANITARY, but it's true! _I - LIKE - KISSING - YOU!_ I-I like the TEXTURE, a-and, the WARMTH, a-and yes, I MIGHT even like the MOISTURE just one bit! And MOST OF ALL, I LIKE HOW GIDDY AND CALM AND GOOD IT MAKES ME FEEL INSIDE! _Okay?! Happy now?"_

He collected a deep breath, then shouted again:

"And BESIDES, there is NO concrete proof that alcohol has caused my DIRTY _kissing urges! PAKs are DESIGNED to work like human levers..."_

"Livers?"

"WHATEVER!" he roared over her voice, "They are MADE to filter alcohol among other things and there's not been a record in the _WHOLE DARN IRKEN HISTORY of a PAK being DAMAGED by it! It's much, MUCH MORE LIKELY that I just LEGITIMATELY LIKE IT!"_ he screeched so hard his throat hurt.

Exhausted by all the sudden shouting, he continued, in a quieter voice:

"Human, I've been treating you like an enemy until now, but _now_ I realize that all this time, you've been a very _v... valuable_ asset to the mission! Irkens _don't have_ partners but, but _if we did,_ you would be my _top choice! Easily!_ You may be _horrible,_ but you are the _least horrible person_ I know! B-because you're SMART, a-and COOL, and FUNNY, and RUTHLESS, and COMFORTING, and I... I don't just want you _not dead,_ I want you to be _with me!"_

Over his still-strongly-shut eyes, he heard the human murmur:

"Zim, are you sure you are okay with this? I mean, I... I don't want to manipulate you into something you don't want... and I mean, I don't really-"

 _"OH, for the sake of ALL that is TALL!"_ he let out in exasperation.

He opened his eyes, sprinted towards the human, who exhibited an utterly astounded look over her face, grabbed her by her shoulders and pulled her into a kiss. 

He quickly pushed her back again, and stared right into her eyes:

"THERE!" he shouted at her face, "Are you not satisfied yet?! You've JUST made me do the most HUMILIATING THING in my ENTIRE LIFE! _At least APPRECIATE IT!"_

"A-ah... well, but.... I don't know, Zim I..." the human stuttered, "that-that doesn't change that I lied to you! That is just _inexcusable!"_

"Human, _I was lying to you too!_ There is no _hypothetical planet that a hypothetical someone is looking for because they hypothetically lost it in a hypothetical space sack!"_ he said all in one breath and extremely fast, "It's REAL! _And it's ME!_ I've never actually _destroyed_ the Earth! I accidentally plunged it into the space sack and now I need the machine to complete the mission!"

"Oh. But I knew all of that from the start" the human said, completely unimpressed.

"WHAT?!" he exclaimed, "Really?! _And you didn't say anything?!"_

"I mean, there were a couple of times when you contradicted yourself, so I thought it was just... out? But anyway. I just figured you must have had a good reason to lie" she shrugged.

"Well, uh- in ANY CASE! You don't need to _pamper_ me, _woman!_ _"_ he asserted, crossing his arms on his chest. _"I know exactly what I want._ _Plus,_ this schmoopy, insecure act isn't like you at all! Get _a grip!_ You just killed two old people and set their precious house on fire! _And_ you get to bask in ZiM's presence for the days to come! You should be _ecstatic!_ "

The human stared at him for a few seconds, without saying anything.

Then, a tentative, sweet smile appeared on her face. She dried her eyes with her palms.

She extended one arm, inviting him to come closer.

"Come here. Sit with me for a bit"

Oh, _finally_ she'd turned back to her old self. It'd just taken... all of his _dignity._ And probably, down the line, a good century of his life.

Zim sat with his legs crossed to the human's right. The human rested her hand on his right shoulder from behind his back, and gently stroked it.

"I think this is the first time since we met that there are absolutely no lies between us" she said.

"Oh... that's true" he reflected.

"Why did you lie to me about your mission, Zim?" she asked. "I mean. You don't need to answer. But if it's okay with you, I'd like to know".

Zim sighed. What was the point of hiding it now? He'd already humiliated himself plenty. He might as well go all the way.

"I didn't want you to know that I jeopardized my own mission" he answered, "I didn't want you to think that... well, I'm... I'm the most _elite_ of the _elitest soldiers,_ and yet..." he stopped, leaving the rest for her to interpret.

"Oh, Zim" she stroked his shoulder again in a reassuring gesture, "You know I'm not with you because of your status, right?"

"... yeah. Yeah, I know " he timidly nodded.

"That's alright. I'll gladly help you with your mission as much as I can"

"... thank you" he said, relieved that he would have someone to help him in his mission after all.

The human chuckled softly.

"You know, I thought only you were terrible at relationships-"

_"HEY!"_

"... but as it turns out, I'm terrible at this too" she continued, "Maybe it's better this way. _This way,_ we can learn not to be terrible together" she spoke calmly and quietly, as if she was lost in her thoughts.

"But if we are to stay together, we need to be absolutely sincere" she added with a firmer voice, "No more lies. No more secrets. If we're going to rely on each other, we must be able to _trust_ each other".

The Driver-human neared her left hand in front of him, her smallest finger raised up.

"What's with your finger?" he asked.

"Shake it with your own pinky finger, like you would with a hand. That's how humans make promises" she explained.

Zim looked between her and her hand.

The prospect of being completely honest with someone intimidated him a bit: he'd never been completely honest with _anyone._ Much less with a _human._ His own _life's calling_ entailed him _lying constantly!_

But, looking now at the Driver-human, he found that... maybe, just maybe... if there was one person he could ever entrust with his secrets, that was _her:_ she was never judgmental; rather, she was always _comforting_ and _understanding._ And whenever he wanted to say something, she was always ready to listen to him. Sometimes, she seemed even more interested in what he had to say than _he_ was.

And besides, the thought of deceiving her just... didn't sit right by him.

 _And,_ making this promise was clearly important to her.

 _And,_ if he ever changed his mind, he could always break the promise at any moment.

"Alright, human" he agreed, _"I promise"._

He held out his own pinkie and shook her finger like she'd told him to.

The human pulled him closer to her using the hand on his shoulder; she kissed the top of his head, then rested her chin on it.

This was the closest he'd been to her body in days, and that closeness made his heart race. Again, he could smell the sweet fragrance of her soap on her skin and on her hair. He could feel her _warmth._ He could hear her _breath_ going in and out of her chest.

Then, she started to slowly, gently rock her body, lulling him in her embrace.

He closed his eyes. He didn't know why, but that movement was strangely _relaxing._ It _almost_ suffocated the shame he felt at being in that position, all tangled up with the human.

"Mmm" the human purred above him, "You know, Zim. What you said earlier sounded an awful lot like a confession"

"Yeah...? That's what you call it when you reveal to someone something you were hiding from them"

"No, I mean. A confession that _you like me"_

 _"... oh"_ he opened his eyes wide, terrified at the realization.

"It's okay. There are certain things that don't need to be said out loud" she chuckled, "I know how it is with your people. This will be our secret. No one has to know "

Zim let out a sigh of _enormous_ relief: for once, he was extremely grateful for her mind-reading abilities.

Maybe he had been watching the thing from the wrong perspective: _true..._ he did, sort of, maybe, kinda, _like a human after all_.

BUT.

If the certified most incredible Irken was feeling such a thing then... _how bad could it really be?_

There wasn't exactly a _written law_ against _liking someone._ It was more of an _unwritten, social rule._ Which was sure to bring you heavy, shameful social stigma. Which was sure to get you demoted from any position you were holding, without any possibility of redeeming yourself. And then after a while you'd probably end up dying under _very_ suspicious circumstances.

BUT.

If he managed to keep it a secret for now, maybe he could _slooowly_ ease it up to his peers, and after he accumulated even more un-ignorable amazing accomplishments than he already had, they would have looked past it. Besides, the human was clearly an amazing, unique specimen among her kins: she was so much more awesome than them, she might as well not be considered a human herself. Did he really have to be ashamed of being... _involved_ with her?

Maybe with time, the other Irkens would have accepted it as an unconventional quirk that made him even _more_ lovable. Something that they wouldn't have done themselves, but that was kind of interesting to see on someone else. Like when he'd blown up all of his fellow Invaders.

All in due time, of course.

Zim was used to ignoring or denying whatever part of reality he didn't like, even if it was a part of himself. He was only vaguely aware of it: it was something that he did naturally and instinctively. Like breathing, or blinking.

But ignoring or denying his feelings for the human was clearly not an option. It was just too hard. It was almost _painful._ His whole being, _his mind, his body,_ had rejected all his attempts at doing that.

On the contrary, embracing them always felt... _good. Extremely good._ Too good to be real, in fact.

His train of thought was interrupted when the human started scratching with her nails on his nape, sending a shiver down his spine.

"Hehehe" she giggled, "you couldn't even stay one day without cuddles"

"Er...!" he yelped, embarrassed, _"Don't push it now, human!"_ he hissed.

"Aw, don't be so bashful now" she whispered, "I think that's _adorable"_

_"It's not-"_

Her hand move from his nape to one of his antennae: she picked it between her index and her thumb, and slowly slid her fingers along it. Zim's entire body spasmed, his breath cut short.

She lowered her mouth and whispered right into his ear:

"I suppose I should _thank you_ properly for saving me today".

With her left hand, she caressed his shoulder; it trailed down across his chest, to his belly.

"You know, no one had ever defended me with such passion and strength".

Her breath tickled his ear, making his body spasm again; he felt his heart skipping a beat in his chest, and his temperature rising, _and,_ weirdly, he also felt a sort of... _pleasurable warmth_ emanating from his crotch.

Instinctively, he pressed his legs together, and scrambled out of the human's hug, who drew back her hands from his antenna and his body.

"Ah, uh- no, I-I feel _thanked enough_ , thank you!" he stammered, confused at the yet another brand of weird bodily reaction the human's touch had provoked in him.

He gave a quick look down between his legs. Later, when he was alone, he would have probably done well checking that part.

The human giggled. With a hand, she caressed his cheek and his chin.

"Are you sure? I'm feeling very... _affectionate_ tonight"

"I-I can see that" he looked sideways, "You, uh... kissing is fine. A-and, hugging too, but. Keep it down with the hands. They're very _intense"._

The human chuckled again. She moved her hand from his chin to his shoulder again, leaned in and kissed him on his forehead, having seemingly given up on... whatever it is that her hands were trying to do.

Then, she turned to look at the burning building. 

"It's pretty, isn't it?" she commented, "But I don't think the fire will reach the lighthouse too"

"We should have spread the gasoline there too! Maybe we can hit it with the ship's missiles..."

"I think the outer shell would come down, but I doubt it would do anything for the light or the pillar it is on. I don't think they were built at the same time. Without the lighthouse around it, it looks more like... like Sauron's tower..."

"Like _whose_ tower?" he asked, "Who are these people with absurd names you keep babbling about?"

"I'll show you when you visit my house again. I have the director's cut on USB. It's pirated and sometimes the Pirate Bay url flashes on the bottom of the screen, but it's still in HD"

Then, out of nowhere, she added:

"Do you believe in magic, Zim?"

Zim, who had completely given up on understanding whatever she was talking about in the first half of her speech, simply replied to her later question:

"Of course not. That's just a bunch of nonsense"

"But then what kind of light is that?" she wondered, "A light that can be transferred on photos? And where did the storm come from?"

"I don't know. _I don't care"_ he shrugged, "but just because we don't know, it doesn't have to be _magic"_

"I guess you're right" she murmured.

They watched the building burn for a few more minutes, sitting side by side. Now the walls were coming down under the fire. The flames were so high, they reached past half of the height of the light-house tower behind the main building.

And Zim suddenly felt very, very _peaceful._ It was like everything was finally in its place. Even more so than before. And suddenly he was very, _very_ grateful to himself, for choosing not to leave the human.

Oh, right. Just one more thing before he could _really_ consider himself at peace...

"... human? Can I ask you something?" he asked.

"Yes?"

"Do I really smell weird to you?"

"Ah, uh..." she awkwardly smiled, "I mean... all alien skins smell a bit weird to me. But yours is not bad! It's a _good_ kind of weird!"

"Oh" he let out, relieved. "Yeah, I get it. Then, you smell weird too"

"Hahaha!" she chuckled.

She took his hand in hers and gently squeezed it.

"I think it's time to leave, before the atmosphere fills with smoke"

He smiled back at her.

"Can I try to fire one missile at the tower? It's fine if it's just the 'shell', right? Maybe 'The Light' wants it too come down. That way no more creepy weirdos can come live inside of it".

"Such a thoughtful, caring citizen you are. Gentrifying your local evil, magical dark tower".

She brought his hand to her mouth and kissed it.

"Okay, but just one. And I get to fire the second one".

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In case it isn't clear because the two main characters are terrible at expressing their feelings, yeah, they are to be considered an official couple (tm) now. For realz. Took them (me) long enough.


	15. A Fun First Date

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Driver and Zim go on their first, innocuous date on the planet Flord -particularly in its supermarkets.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I felt I needed a chapter where Zim and the MC just goofed off without nothing much important happening. Sorry it came out so long. Hope you have fun with it anyway.

Driver woke up the next morning after a dreamless sleep; the previous night, she'd fallen fast asleep as soon as her body had lain on the cot in her small sleeping chamber, exhausted by the experiences she’d lived that day. Which was actually a _surprisingly_ good thing: before going to bed, she’d worried she wouldn’t be able to sleep in because of them in the first place.

She turned in her cot and stretched her back and limbs with a moan, feeling unexpectedly well-rested. She moved the bed sheets to one side and slowly stood up sitting, her bare feet on the ship's floor. She took a glance around the small, dark cabin that was her bedroom on her ship; the strongest light she could see came from the alarm clock, which at the moment read in glowing red numbers: 9:00 am. So she’d woken at her usual time, too. Good. Maybe she would be spared from having nightmares about that _awful accident_ after all.

She stood up, and with the push of a button on the wall she opened the bedroom’s sliding door. She stepped into the illuminated hallway of the ship, and something in the kitchen, which laid opposite to her chamber, caught her attention: through her sleepy eyes, she could see Zim sitting at the little table inside, playing with her Nintendo DS in the same position she’d left him when she went to sleep. Time didn't seem to pass for him like it did for her: she was sleep-daze, her hair messy, her movements sluggish, but he was still playing the game like only a few minutes had passed since she’d left him. One thing had changed though: he’d moved from the control room to the kitchen. He probably knew she was going to wake up soon and preemptively went there to have breakfast together _(how cute!)._

As she entered the kitchen, Zim finally perceived her movements and looked up from his game. 

"Good morning" she murmured with a sleepy voice as she got closer to him, massaging her closed eyes with her palms.

"Good morning" he replied with a slight nod of his head.

"Mmmh" she groaned as she stretched her back again flexing it backwards, and felt a pleasant crack in her spine.

"How was the night watch?" she asked him.

"Nothing to report" he said straightening his posture. "All I saw was an ice cream truck around 3. That... _horrible..._ song" he shuddered at the memory, _"I wish I could have blown it up"._

"I can only imagine" she nodded with understanding.

"Plus, I am pretty sure this _'league'_ of _buffoons_ is impossible to beat" he added shaking the gaming console, "This game must be _rigged!_ I've been trying _the whole night!"_

"Yeah, that part is pretty hard" she agreed, "I'm sure you'll beat it, eventually".

Zim was about to return to his game, when she gently slipped a hand under his chin. She guided his face up, so that she could take a good look at his left cheek: already, the cut from the day before was almost vanished, reduced to nothing more than a light, barely-visible mark on his skin.

"What?" he asked, oddly unbothered by her hand's touch.

"Just checking on your cut" she smiled.

"I told you it was nothing" he said with a hint of conceit, "As you can see, I'm already all healed".

Driver caressed his other cheek, leaned towards him, and pressed her puckered lips down on the previously-hurt one, squishing his face between her mouth and her hand.

"Nnnnnngh! What awe you doin'?" Zim weakly squirmed in her grasp, his short legs kicking as they hung from the chair, "I faid I'm h-healed! Lef go!", he whined in a muffled voice.

She drew back from his cheek with a smacking _"Muah!"_ sound.

"I was just testing the durability of your new skin" she grinned, admiring his adorable, blushing face.

Zim wiped his cheek, flustered and pouting.

"Pretty sure there are more _efficient_ ways of doing that" he grumbled.

"Not that I know of" she retorted.

"How about some breakfast?" she proposed as she fetched a cereal box from the cupboard and milk from the fridge; both space products that tasted like more sugary, more _artificial_ versions of their Earth counterparts.

Zim closed the still-on Nintendo DS, pushing it to one side of the table.

When she was done fixing both their bowls, she sat in front of him, and they started eating. She liked having meals with him. It was the one thing that they consistently, _always_ shared together, and eating always seemed to put him in a slightly better mood than usual.

"How long are we gonna have to eat cereal?" he asked as he munched on a spoonful of the stuff.

"You don't like 'em?" she asked back.

"I do, but... your cooking tastes better"

"The kitchen here is too small to cook" she explained, "I don't even have an oven or a decent fridge".

The ship's kitchen was very compact. All it contained were a microwave, a cupboard, a small fridge and a small square table with two chairs, all nailed to the floor. It didn't even have a sink: she had to use the bathroom's one to do the dishes. While the lower half of the ship was pretty wide, allowing for two escape pods, the engines, and most of the plumbing and heat systems, as well as a storage room for 'delivery purposes', the upper part lacked most comforts for the passengers: the widest space was the control room; the bathroom, kitchen and bedroom where laughably small and bare, barely allowing for two people (or three, if they squeezed themselves together reeeeeeeal tight and didn't all sleep at the same time) to live in. The compactness was to ensure the ship's speed, lightness and maneuverability in case they needed to battle or escape. Which was _a lot._

"Tell you what. As soon as we come home, I'm cooking you whatever you ask for" she offered.

"'Home'?", he asked "you mean, your house?"

"Yeah, hmmm" she paused for a moment to swallow a bite of cereals, tracing circles in the air with her spoon like it was a gear turning, "that's what I meant. Ask for whatever you want!"

"Well, uh..." he hesitated for a moment. "There was that one time when you baked that blastberry pie. That one was pretty good..." he finally said with a timid, quiet voice, looking away from her gaze

"Then blastberry pie you shall have!" she sang.

Zim looked up and smiled at her, and she wished real hard that she had a piece of blastberry pie to serve him right at that moment.

"I'm glad you changed the course to a main road" he said, "We'll get to the market a lot faster"

"There was _no way_ I'd continue on that route any longer" she stated, her heart still full of dread at the memory, "I've had my fill of murdering old cannibals, thank you very much..."

Zim snorted.

"You mean that as in... you've had your fill of old cannibals _that_ murder... OR... you've had your fill of _you_ murdering them?"

"Hah!" she chuckled, catching on the involuntary ambiguity of her statement, "Dude, you _know_ I'd never get tired of killing old people"

"Hehehe, yeah... I know" Zim smiled, a light blush again on his cheeks.

She smiled back at him, and kept eating. She liked when men appreciated her violent side. Most of them seemed to be scared or crept out by it, but Zim seemed... extremely _attracted_ to it.

_I bet underneath all that innocent, prudish facade he's into some real nasty stuff._

That thought almost made her choke on her cereal; she tried to push real hard against imagining what Zim's tastes in _that_ regard might have been, at least while he was _right in front of her,_ but to no avail.

Thankfully, Zim spoke again and diverted her from her... reverie:

"Human?" Zim asked, blissfully unaware of her indecent thoughts, "Do you think they'll have smuggled Irken uniforms there?”

 _"'Smuggled'?_ Hey, just because it's a place _I_ know, it doesn't mean it's illegal!" she protested.

"... it's not?"

"... only, like, thirty percent" she admitted, "Also, why do you need-OH, right! Your shirt is still ruined from the fire". She'd forgotten because his long glove hid the burnt sleeve. "Can't you order one from your own people?"

“Invader uniforms are considered military equipment"

"And?"

"That means that the order must be approved by the Tallest!" he explained, _"And,_ what do you think will happen when they'll find out I'm not on Earth? Or why I need a new uniform in the first place?"

“So what? Falsify the order. Tell 'em you burnt it during an experiment, or something. I'm sure you'd be capable of that. You're good with computers”

“YOU-!" Zim exclaimed indignant, retreating in his chair like her very words had caused a sense of repulsion in him, "Are you suggesting I should _LIE_ to my Empire? To _my_ Tallest?!"

"Uh..."

He was attracted to her being a _murderer_ but he considered lying to a _government_ to be an affront on morality? His moral compass was even more broken than hers, and that was saying _a lot..._

"... no?" she concluded, trying not to stir up a useless argument.

"Yeah!" he scoffed, "Thought I heard so!"

"I'm sure you'll find something in the illegal area" she reassured him as she raised her cereal-less bowl to drink the remaining milk.

A much less positive thought hit her as she lowered the now empty bowl on the table.

"Although..." she reflected, "traveling this route might bring its own brand of problems..."

"Like what?" he asked.

"Like the Flordian customs" she replied, "and we should be pretty close, too".

The Flordians were aliens in control of that portion of space, their planet being at the center of it; apparently, they were so paranoid about foreign threats that they'd barricaded the whole border: if one didn't want to fight off the military ships that constantly patrolled it, they needed to go through one of the numerous checkpoint stations; if the authorities deemed them harmless, they provided a pass to put on their ship, so that they may navigate their territory without being blown up. Ironically, the best way to avoid that was to _not_ try to sneak in in secret, but rather to pass through the customs' checkpoints. Preferably, in her case, with a bunch of false documents.

She wasn't even _too_ worried about that: she'd done it once, several years, before. Her false documents _usually_ worked. And anyway, she would have much rather had to take on a bunch of cops than another couple of stephen-king-esque _alien monsters._

After they had breakfast, Driver did the dishes, washed herself and changed into her work clothes. By the time she was ready, the border patrols were already in sight: she saw multiple military ships stationed at even points in space, forming a giant, spherical web of ships; in the center of the sphere, in the distance, was the pink dot that was their home planet. In between the ships were the checkpoint stations through which foreign vehicles were expected to enter or exit the area.

She placed herself in the pilot seat and disabled the autopilot; then, she steered the ship towards the closest station. 

"Zim, do you remember what we said about how to behave around cops?" she asked him.

He had sat at his usual place to her left, trying once again to beat the League in Pokémon with her DS console.

"Yeah, yeah" he waved his hand dismissively, eyes stuck to the Nintendo, "we jump down the ship as soon as we reach the customs' station and shoot everything we see"

"What?! _No!"_ she exclaimed "That's the exact opposite of what I said!"

"Yeah, real interesting, Driver-human" Zim absentmindedly murmured as he kept playing.

"Hey? _HEY, Zim? Look at me"_ she waved her hand and snapped her fingers between his eyes and the console. Finally, he _had_ to look up and pay her attention, shooting her an annoyed look.

"Look at me. _Listen to me._ This is very, _VERY important._ We _NEED_ to act _polite_ and _civil_ and _calm_. We give them our _'documents'._ And _then_ we leave like we are _regular, honest citizens._ And THAT'S it. No unnecessary guns allowed. No unnecessary SHOOTING allowed. _AND, most importantly"_ she pointed her index finger to his chest for emphasis, "YOU lock yourself in the kitchen, or the bathroom, or the bedroom or WHATEVER and you STAY there. You _got that?"_

Zim stared at her with the blankest of gazes.

"... but I wanted to shoot-"

"NO!" she demoted him pressing her finger into his chest, and neared her face to his, "You stay HERE and you NOT shoot UNLESS _I_ tell you to. If they find us out we are DEAD. Dead, dead, _dead._ I repeat: _if you do not listen to me we'll both end up DEAD"_

"AL - RIGHT, _I GET it!_ _Geez, woman!_ How _overdramatic_ you are! Cut me some slack, okay? I. Get it!" he yelled back at her, irritated.

"Talking to me like I'm... _Gir,_ or something..." he then mumbled under his breath as he jumped down his seat and went closing himself inside the kitchen.

Driver flew the ship into the checkpoint station; the patrol ships all around it seemed to _stare_ at her and her ship. She gulped down her fears, and mentally repeated to herself:

_It's okay. It will all be okay. You are a polite, regular citizen and you've got nothing to fear. Everything will be okay._

The station was very much like a big car wash: an enclosed corridor through which ships needed to pass. Only in place of the cleaning tools for the vehicles were the cops checking the pilots' documents.

As she entered the station, a big door slid shut behind her; a big light sign hanging from the ceiling blinked red: 'Pressurization in progress. Do not exit your ship'. In front of her were a platform for landing, and beyond it the big, closed metal door that led into the Flordian territory. 

Shortly after she landed on the platform, a bell rang and the sign turned off: the room had been pressurized.

She turned off the engines, fetched her fake documents from under the panel control, and headed to her ship's exit.

"Wish me luck!" she said as she passed past the kitchen.

"I hope the police don't kill you!" she heard Zim reply from behind the door.

She smiled at his odd words of encouragement. She'd thought of forging some fake documents for him too, but explaining why an Irken and a weird, naked ape were traveling together would have been a pain even with all the creativity she was capable of pouring into them: having him hide would be much simpler.

 _Please, Zim, for once, try to lay low,_ she prayed.

She opened the main exit and a staircase rolled out from her ship to the dock next to the platform she'd landed on: already there were two aliens in uniforms waiting for her down below. Wearing her brightest smile, she waved at them with her free hand as she climbed down the staircase.

"Good day, officers!" she greeted them.

Her happy smile and greeting weren't returned: the two guards simply stared at her with deadpan expressions on their faces, in total silence. However, they didn't look intimidating _per se:_ they had magenta-pink skin; long lumps on their cheeks and mouths that looked like wider cat's whiskers and moustaches; matching blue helmets and blue military uniforms with the Flordian emblem on the right side; they carried blast-guns on their backs; they were naked from the waist down, walking on four tentacles: they pretty much looked like a cross between Squidward and the Pink Panther, and she had to refrain herself from laughing at that strikingly accurate comparison.

As she got to their level, she noticed that one was shorter and burlier, the other being slimmer and taller and possibly younger. Other than that, they looked pretty much identical to her: even their bored, annoyed expressions were the same.

When she finally stood in front of them, the burly one spoke in a very monotone voice:

"Please provide your license and registration"

Damn. Someone was _cranky._ Seemed like she couldn't get along with authorities not even when she acted at her politest. Could they somehow smell the criminality emanating from her?

"Here you go" she handed the papers over.

The burly guard flipped through it, while his companion kept staring at her with suspicious, somehow hostile eyes.

"So your name is _Sharice._ Passport printed in Merritt's Third Security Printing Bureau. Correct?"

"Yup, sir" she nodded, looking at the passport that she still remembered printing herself a week before in her room, slacked on her chair with only her underwear and a shirt on, munching on toasted bread and jam.

Using a portable scanner that he'd been keeping in a pocket, the burly guard scanned the barcode on the 'passport': a small, positive light beeped on its top. Phew. _Thank God,_ she thought. Not that her fake bar codes had ever failed her.

"And this says you're a... _Blerchian"_ he continued.

"Correct"

"Funny" he scoffed, but there was no trace of a smile on his face, "It really sounds like 'Blorchian' but with an e instead of an o"

Oooh. Right. Blorchians. She'd thought she'd made that word up, but apparently it was just a modified version of a name that she'd subconsciously remembered.

"What can I say?" she giggled and shrugged, "Many words sound like each other"

"Uh uh. And your planet in the Merritt galaxy? Because I've got a thrice removed cousin from there and I've never heard him mentioning of a Blerch planet before"

_Oh, to hell with you and your thrice removed cousin._

"It's a very, very small, unimportant planet. Rarely comes up in conversations" she smiled.

"What are you even?" the slim, tall guard intervened for the first time, "Some kind of naked brachiofacial rat?"

"Yeah, eh... something like that" she nodded. Well, that was certainly... new. Of all the unflattering terms that'd been used to describe her, she'd never heard 'rat' before.

"Ah"

"Well, Sharice, Blerchian from the Blerch planet, where are you headed to?" the burly one asked.

"I'm on my way to the Market of Tiyo! I wanna buy some Ladorite healing crystals. It's for my grandma. She's been sick" she lied.

"Couldn't you just order them instead of going there yourself? It's quite the journey from your home"

"I'm a fan of... doing things myself. Especially for such an important matter" she tried to smile wider to hide her irritation. What kind of question was that? At this point, she was sure they were trying to ask her as many questions as possible to exhaust her.

"And this ship is yours? It's a big ship for somebody who's just uhhh", he checked her birth date, "two hundred years old"

"It was a gift for my Bachelor's degree" the girl who had never even finished high school replied, "Wanna see my student card? I still have it"

"Yeah, sure"

Crap. She didn't think they would actually want to see it.

She searched in her pants' back pocket and retrieved the fake university card.

"Never seen this logo" the guard said as he inspected it, "Is this in the Merritt galaxy too?"

"It's very far from here, actually. My parents wanted me to study abroad. It's a very prestigious institution over there" she explained, and she really hoped they wouldn't ask her any deeper questions about it, because she'd never once stepped inside a 'prestigious institution' in her entire life.

"Ha. A honor student" he commented.

"What even is this plant?" the slim guard asked, tipping on the logo.

"It's, uh... it's a local plant that we use as a wreath for our graduations" she explained, and she had to push back a fit of laughter, because that logo was nothing more than a stylized drawing of a marijuana leaf inside a circle, around which she'd edited the words 'culture', 'education', 'truth'. Admittedly, she'd been a little bit high herself back when she'd printed that card, and at that time it'd seemed like the most hilarious thing ever. It still kinda was, truth to be told.

Looking almost disappointed for not having found anything compromising, the guard handed her back all her documents.

"Alright, I'd say everything checks out so far" he declared.

_Hell yeah._

"Hey, wait a second" the slim guard cut in again, "what are those panels for?" he asked as he pointed at her ship with one of his tentacles.

_Oh, shut up!_

"Uh... those would be the storage room and the escape pods"

"Such a _weird_ ship to give to your daughter as a _graduation present"_ he insinuated with a very suspicious tone, "This looks like an aircraft specialized in _cargo delivery_ and _combat._ You can tell by its shape and its defensive missiles. Not exactly the type of ship a regular young woman would fly"

"Aaahhh... you know how _dads_ are" she shrugged, "He wanted me to be very safe _and_ the ship to be very cheap at the same. So he kinda had to settle for whatever the used cars store had at the moment, without asking himself what _I_ would have wanted" she explained, and it wasn't even too far off from the truth: her father had never, to her memory, really cared for what she wanted.

"You wanna see the interior too?" she asked, specifically because a direct invitation might have persuaded them from doing that.

"Hmmm... that... won't be necessary" the burly guard said, "However, I think it would be best to check the escape pods. In case you might have to use them during your stay"

_... oh, no._

"It's just the escape pods, sir" she tried to dissuade him, but as soon as she said that, she realized it had been a big mistake: both of them shot her a suspicious, nasty look.

"Er, you see, they've never been _cleaned,_ and I'm-"

"If it's just the escape pods, then why are you so nervous?" the burly guard inquired.

"I'm not nervous, sir" she lied, "It's just- I've never been searched by the police. This seems a bit excessive, so I was surprised-"

"There have been some incidents happening in this area" the slim one explained, "Security's been tighter".

Were they... talking about _her?_ She wasn't _of course_ the only criminal in the area, but somehow she felt like they were...

"Nothing to hide, nothing to fear, miss"

"Open the one on _this_ side!" the slim guard pointed at one of the escape pods.

 _Welp._ That was the one where Zim's ship was. How could have she explained an Irken ship aboard?

"... sure, sir" she nodded.

She turned, the two guards behind her. She fetched her key from one of her pockets, and turned it in its lock on the panel: the cell's door slowly slid up to reveal Zim's Voot Cruiser.

"Woah!" she heard the slim guard exclaim.

"Is that-" the burly guard breathed out in surprise and shock.

 _Alright, keep it cool now_. Her plan now was to draw out the gun from under her jacket ,shoot one, take the other as a hostage and let them out of the station from where they'd come from; then flee, and take a secondary route like they originally were going to.

She would have probably pulled it off too, if only Zim didn't suddenly come out of the ship, yelling and shouting from its entrance above.

"HEY! _What are you doing to ZiM's ship?!"_ he angrily shook his fists. She'd no idea how he could've noticed them opening the cell all the way from the kitchen, except maybe a sort of sixth sense for... messing up any and all plans she ever thought of.

 _"An Irken!_ " the slim one exclaimed, sounding frightened and astounded.

"What are _you_ doing here?!" the burly one asked in a similar tone.

_Here we go._

She turned around quickly, drawing out her gun, but when she did so she found that the two guards had already backed away from her, their hands raised above their heads, looking all scared and astounded.

 _"What the-"_ she looked between the two of them, confused.

"Nobody told us about this!" the slim one whispered to the other.

"I think he's traveling undercover!" the burly one whispered back.

"I knew this girl looked _sketchy!"_

 _"HELLOOO?!"_ Zim yelled impatient, "What were you going to do with my ship?! _Driver!_ I thought you said there wouldn't be any problems crossing through here!" 

"Problems?!" the slim one squeaked in fear.

"We didn't know this, uh... this Blerchian was your _personal driver,_ sir!" the burly one explained with an apologetic voice, "We were just doing our regular check up! We meant no _disrespect!"_

"Yeah, right!" the slim one echoed, "We would have never dared if we'd known who this ship _really_ belonged to!"

Driver looked down a moment to reflect. She wasn't exactly sure what was going on there but... _damn,_ was she going to play along with it.

"Oh, I bet you wouldn't!" she growled, assuming an angry tone, walking a few heavy steps towards the two scared guards, "You two almost blew my... _boss' cover!"_

 _"No no no!"_ the slim one pleaded in horror.

"We didn't blew anything!" the burly one added, "There's no need to involve the higher-ups!"

"Hmm..." she placed a hand under the chin in a thoughtful gesture, _"actually, I have half a mind to do just that"_

"It was just a misunderstanding!" the burly one joined his hands and begged, "Please overlook our mistake! It would be such a waste, to undo our _peace treaty_ over something so little!"

"Hmmm... very well, then" she said as she placed her hands on her hips, "We won't tell on you to the Irken Empire's higher-ups if _you_ don't tell us on _your_ higher-ups. Sounds fair?"

They two guards looked at each other, full of fear and doubt.

"But, uh-"

"We can't _not_ report such a-"

"Listen up, _dogs!"_ she interrupted them, _"You_ are not going to tell a _living soul_ what you saw today! You are going to provide _both_ our ships with those special passes that will exclude us from further inspection! _Then,_ we will leave your territory undisturbed, without even looking your people's way. OR. _I see a hundred more Irken ships coming your way._ And at that point, you will _personally_ have to answer to the Tallest, for ruining their finest Invader's undercover mission! Right, boss?" she asked turned back to Zim.

"... Eh?" Zim blurted out in confusion, possibly even more astonished than the other two aliens.

With a subtle, quick gesture of her face, she urged him to answer.

"...Uh... What- _Oh!_ Oh, yeah, yeah, right! What _she_ said!" Zim finally caught on on her act.

"Ohhh... this can't be good... this isn't going to end well... _"_ the slim one quietly despaired.

"Shut up, _rat"_ she growled, staring with her hostile eyes into his, "Now go back in there and open the damn gate. You've made me and my boss waste enough time as it is! And be sure to use the _right_ passes too"

"Right away!" the two guards saluted her, immediately ran off to execute her orders.

She stayed on the dock to carefully monitor them frantically install the special passes on both her ship and Zim's Cruiser- two small metal devices that glued themselves to the ships' outer shells and emitted a special type of radio waves which barred them from further controls on the Flordian government's part.

Once they were done with that, Driver finally headed back to her ship and Zim, who'd been overseeing the whole scene from the staircase's top.

"Zim, did you see that? They were _terrified_ of you!" she whispered to him as they walked again to the control room.

"Why are you acting so surprised? _Of course_ they were! _Look at me!"_ he proudly puffed his chest.

"Yeah, uh- but what treaty were they talking about?" she asked as she strapped herself into her pilot seat.

"No idea" he shrugged, sitting again on his left seat.

"Are you sure? Doesn't the name 'Flord' ring any bells for you?" she asked, readying the ship for take-off.

"Ehhh.... uhhh.... aahhhhh...." Zim tapped the sides of his head as he struggled to rack his brains.

"Uhhhhrrr.... _oh, wait! Now_ I remember! It was on the Irken News Radio Program some months ago! The Flordians were so worried about Operation Impending Doom II, that they started paying the Empire tributes so that we wouldn't invade them!"

"... Tributes?"

"Yeah, in monies and snacks" he nodded.

 _"Uh..._ you don't say..."

The gate finally opened, allowing them to pass through the station and enter theFlordian territory; she let out a breath of relief: _somehow,_ they'd _miraculously_ made it through. If there wasn't a treaty going on between Irkens and Flordians, who knows what would've happened to them!

... that's right... _the treaty..._

 _'Irken allies are as useful as they are rare',_ Mister Krassmann's words rang in her head.

They _could_ have laid low and headed straight out of the Flordian territory... _but,_ if her instincts were correct (and they usually were), when else would such a _golden opportunity_ present itself again? 

"Zim..." she quietly said, "I think I have an idea. How would you feel about delaying the trip to the market by one day?"

"Uh? What? No way!" he shook his head.

"No no no, listen, Zim! I think if we play our cards right, we might be able to make a very large profit out of this!" she begged him, "AND it will probably be _superfun!_ "

"We have enough money. We just robbed _a house._ And _my time_ is running short" he tried to cut her short.

"I'm talking LOTS of money, Zim. Think of it this way: more monies equals better equipment, equals better _machine"_

"I think at this point I'd take doing things _quicker_ over doing them _slightly better"_

"What if I told you... you could get away with ordering me around for one whole day, and I wouldn't be able to say anything in return?"

Zim's eyes widened in a sudden surge of interest.

"... Go on" he allowed.

"You're good at acting, Zim, yes? You are an infiltrator, right?"

"Well, yeah! That's basically what an Invader is!" he nodded.

Oh, man. This might _actually work!_

A devious grin made its way on her face; making sure that they were out of the checkpoint station's sight, she changed the course to head towards the Flordian home planet. Then she pulled out a sheet of paper from a drawer under the panel control and started writing on it.

"Alright, Zim. Get ready. We're going to need your Voot Cruiser for this".

Once they got at an apt distance from the planet, Driver managed to persuade Zim despite his doubts and reservations to let her on his Cruiser, on the condition of course that he’d be the one to pilot it; this time, she was able to dispose herself in a stance that didn’t strain her spine _too much_ inside the small space: she sat in the middle of the seat, back a bit crouched, legs wide open, with Zim seated in front of her operating the little ship.

"Okay, here it is: we're going to _pretend_ to be collecting the due tributes to Irk. You’ll be a tax collector, and _I'll_ be your assistant!"

"Ha!” he scoffed at her, “You won't be able to fool anyone like that! Irkens don't _have_ assistants from other races!"

"Alright, well... What _do_ they have from other races?"

"Slaves. And prisoners. Oh, and test subjects!"

"Very well then, I guess I'll be your... _slave"_

"... you will?" Zim turned to look at her, cheeks darkened and antennae lowered in embarrassment.

"Eh I mean... isn't it a little _too soon_ for that? But, I mean, if you _do_ want to, I guess it’s..."

"It's... it's an _act,_ Zim. Remember? We’re _acting_ _"_ she reminded him with a vague sense of disgust at… whatever it was that he was thinking about her.

Zim didn’t answer, his gaze blank again.

"Zim? Are you still here with me?"

"Oh!” he suddenly jumped, and turned back again to the controls, “Yeah, sure. Sorry. My imagination took over…"

“But, uh…” he then continued, his voice unsure, “I don’t know, human, wouldn’t that be like… stealing from the Empire?”

"Well, uh… no! They owe monies to the _Irken Empire._ And you are _part_ of the Irken Empire. That means they’re rightfully yours, doesn’t it?"

“Uh… when you put it that way...” he reflected, “I AM the most incredible Irken ever. Of course they'd want to tribute me especially! I bet the Tallest would _totally_ approve of it!"

"That's the spirit!"she cheered him on.

"Now, choose a place on the planet that's isolated, small, and where it's evening. That way, it will be easier for our… _extraction_ to go unreported. Do you have access to the local time?"

"Well... I can easily hijack the local satellite to obtain such information" he said as pushed some buttons on the control panel.

"Wow, really? That's impressive. Irken technology is amazing"

"Hehehe” Zim chuckled with pride, “it's the same system I used to navigate on Earth, too!"

They entered the atmosphere of the planet with no problem thanks to the pass the two guard had installed on the Cruiser. Getting closer and closer to the surface, she noticed that reminded her a lot of Earth, with lots of natural areas (a lot for the alien average anyway) in between the conglomerates of buildings.

Zim locked the course on a small town surrounded by the purple vegetation. Local hour 7:43 pm, close to the closing time of the local supermarket. Perfect.

They parked the Voot Cruiser in the near-empty parking lot in front of it and boarded off: it was a short building, pretty much identical to an Earth supermarket, only of an unusual pink color.

"Okay, Zim. Ready for show time? We go in, you first: make the clients exit the building. Then ask the employees for the whole day's earnings"

"Me?” Zim retorted, “Why me?"

"You're the Irken master, aren't you? So give ’em the old Irken razzle-dazzle you’re always telling me about!"

Zim winced in disgust.

 _"Razzle-dazzle?_ Is... is that a _dirty word?"_

"Pfff-WHAT!" she burst out laughing, "Hah, look, just- just act like you normally would on any mission! Just be your usual grumpy, violent Irken self! I'm sure you'll do great! The trick is _startling_ them before they're able to think logically! And the trick to do that is to _have fun!_ Just _have fun,_ Zim! And if any of your words fail, I’ll be there to provide proper… _support"_ she smirked as she drew out from her side a special weapon she’d snatched from under her ship’s control panel right before boarding off.

"... a club?" he asked.

"Zim, I prefer to call it a...” she swung her club in the air, making it do a ‘whooosh’ sound, “… _'persuader'"_

"That's... primitive. You already have a _gun._ What do you need that for?"

Driver placed a hand on Zim’s shoulder, and patiently explained:

"It's not about the _raw destructive power,_ Zim. It’s about the _spectacle._ A gun is common, anonymous, refined. A club is atypical, brutal, and _personal,_ in the way it extends the reach of my arms. In other words, it’s much more likely to freak out the people inside! It is _irrational_ to be more afraid of a club than a gun, but right now, we _need_ them to be irrational in order for this scam- uhm, _tribute collection_ to work. 'You following me?"

"Oooh" Zim placed a pensive hand under his chin,"Yeah, I can see the appeal! Like when you stomp on the enemy mecha with your own mecha leg rather than shooting it, so that you may assert your dominance by posing dramatically upon its stomped body!"

 _“Precisely”_ she nodded.

Seemingly convinced, Zim finally stepped towards the supermarket.

They passed through the automatic doors: it was a pretty small store. There were three checkouts in front of them, with about ten clients around them waiting in line for their turns.

They stood there in the entrance for a few moments. The first one to notice them was a client lady: she was about to put a glass bottle on the middle checkout's roller, when she caught a glimpse of Zim; her eyes widened in shock and she dropped the bottle: it fell onto the side of the roller and then on the floor, splashing its continent everywhere. The other clients and workers were shaken from their tasks and looked up: most looked over in the direction of the noise, but others noticed Zim as well: they proceeded to have the same, shocked reaction as the first woman, and soon enough the whole supermarket was staring at him, paralyzed in fear. Someone even gasped 'An Irken'! under their breath.

They were all completely immobile, as if they were waiting for a clue from Zim; Zim, on the other hand, seemed to be a bit intimidated by that exaggerated reaction: he briefly looked up at her, seeking for her encouragement.

Driver looked down and shared his gaze; she smiled and winked at him.

That seemed to reassure him: he assumed a more confident stance, and held out the false permit she'd scribbled back on the ship:

 _"People of this filthy Flordian supermarket! Surrender the earnings of this undeserving establishment as the due tributes to the mighty Irken Empire!"_ he shouted; the volume was on point, but the tone was a bit _stiff._

The people kept staring at them, dead quiet, like they'd been turned into stone.

Alright. _Angry face time._ She raised the club, holding it with two hands: she swung it down and hit the floor as hard as she could; the tile below broke under her hit, and everybody in the store jumped at that loud noise, including Zim.

 _"Have you NOT heard him?!"_ she barked. She raised the bat again and pointed it at them like it was a pistol, _"All the shoppers! OUT! Out out out before I bash your teeth in!"_

The clients immediately took off, letting out strangled, frightened shrieks, and ran to the doors behind them, trying to stay as away from them as possible.

"And you better not alert ANY authorities. MUCH less news outlets" she warned them before they could exit, "This is a _top secret government operation._ We _know your faces"._

Only _one_ client didn't immediately run away: he timidly raised his hand, as if they were in _school,_ and asked her with a trembling voice:

"Can I bring my groceries?"

Driver stared at him, face neutral.

"Or... or uhm... can I come back later to take them with me? I-I was already paying, and-"

Slowly, she walked to the checkout the man was at, the one on her left, eyes fixed in his. She looked at the groceries on the roller. Then back at him. Then back at them. Using the club, she slowly pushed the articles on the roller onto the ground: they fell in the space between the left and middle checkouts with a series of loud, unpleasant sounds, the glass objects shattering and splashing their contents on top of each other. The man and the cashiers stared impotently at the scene, full of disbelief and fright.

Driver looked back at the man; she swung the bat back up and hit the empty roller with it, making him jump.

"Try and _guess"_ she hissed. 

The man cowered from her, ran all the way to the aisle between the middle and right checkouts and finally ran out the supermarket. As she followed him with her eyes, she noticed that Zim was looking at her with stupefied, impressed eyes. She smiled at him; then turned to the three cashiers.

"Come on, now. _Don't make the master wait"_ she growled.

"Y-You can't do it!" one male cashier from the right checkout weakly protested, "This is _robbery._ When the manager finds out..."

"Are you calling us _thieves?"_ she exclaimed, feigning indignation. She looked over at Zim, signaling him with her eyes to take word.

"Eh... yeah!" Zim shouted, "How _dare_ you! Know your place, Flordian-filth! This is part of our _treaty!_ It's just _tribute collection!"_

"B-but we pay them with taxes-" the female cashier from the middle checkout tried to speak.

"Well, duh!" she interrupted her, "You're going to _detract_ this from your taxes! Just ask your uh... mayor? Sindacate? Whatever you have on this planet. _They'll_ handle it."

"But how are we going to know the amount if we haven't count-"

 _"SILENCE! More monies less talking!"_ Zim urged her.

"You _heard_ him!" she echoed. 

From underneath the left checkout, she drew out a plastic bag and held it out Zim; he picked it by the handles.

 _"Now"_ she pointed at the bag with the club, "Form a line and empty the checkouts into the bag".

The cashiers looked at each other, doubtful and fearful. In the end, the one on the left picked up the checkout's content and carried it to Zim, eyes down. The other two reluctantly followed suit.

"This isn't right... nobody warned us this would happen..." he murmured.

"This is a _secret_ operation" Driver condescendingly explained. "Oh, and about that. You aren't allowed to file the report for the taxes until tomorrow, at 8 am local time. _At least._ And of course: the do-not-alert-local-authorities rule counts for you too".

One by one, they emptied the checkouts' contents into the bag, which Zim was eagerly exposing. He looked at her, and they exchanged an excited look. She'd known that some minimum wage workers would ultimately not care enough to fight for the earnings of their bosses: choosing a supermarket had been an admittedly _excellent_ idea on her part.

Once they were done, Zim loaded the bag onto his shoulder, and they left.

"Thank you for your cooperation" Driver smirked at them before turning to the automatic doors, "Have a good night!"

"Hehehe! Yeah! 'Thank you'!" Zim cackled loudly.

Once they were in the parking lot and close to the Cruiser, Zim made a little jump from the excitement:

"Wow, human!" he beamed "I didn't know you had that in you!"

"Was that Irken enough for you?" she asked with a smug tone.

"That was surprisingly _close!_ And look how much we made!" he happily shook the bag.

"Hmmm... about 3,000 monies, I'd say"

"What? Just that?" he asked, suddenly disappointed. They looked more to him because of the amount of coins, but she'd learned to tell the approximate amount of monies by eye.

"Don't worry. Keep this up, and we'll managed to make at least another 20k by tonight's- er, _today's_ end" she grinned at him.

She pressed a button on the Cruiser's side, and boarded on through the opening screen.

"Come on, babe. Let's search for another place like this"

Zim stared at her, confused and perplexed:

 _"What_ did you just _call_ me?"

The success of the first operation filled Zim with enthusiasm and excitement.

Soon after, they found another, similar supermarket to rob in the nearby area. Again, they parked the Cruiser in front of it; Driver walked to the automatic entrance first: with a slight bow, she drew a series of circles in the air with her club, and neared it to the doors, so that they would open.

"After you, _master"_ she smirked at him.

Zim smiled evilly as he walked towards her: he looked infinitely more confident. She could tell by how he walked. Say what you want about his limited stature or his adorable little face, but by his way of walking you could really tell he was a soldier, with his decisive, intimidating way of stomping his feet on the ground.

Zim stepped the door and she followed him; the place was similar in size to the previous one, but there were more people in it.

"People of this wretched Flordian supermarket!" he shouted in a military tone, positioning himself in a stable, spread-legs stance: everybody jumped to attention.

"I have come from the mighty Irken Empire with my human-"

"Say 'Blerchian'" she whispered to him.

"-with my _Blerchian_ slave! In the name of the _peace_ and _friendship_ between our two races, I will now collect all the monies in the checkouts of this puny establishment, as per my tribute collector duty!" he shouted, presenting the fake document and the bag to the people.

"And throw in your wallets too!" she added, raising the club above her head.

"Yeah, what _she_ said! _MOVE! Form a line! AND BOW!"_ he shouted.

Now that he was taking charge more decisively, the people were quicker to follow his orders: although panicked and frightened, this time the people meekly formed a line with not even a protest.

Driver took place on one side of the row, trying to assume a threatening expression, throwing a scowling look at everyone who looked at her, club well in sight.

It had been quite some time since she'd had the chance to order around a bunch of people. Of course, it was way more fun when it was people in power, like authorities, the rich, or cops, but this still pretty _fun;_ Zim too seemed to be quite enthusiastic about somebody bowing down before him and following his orders; probably way more than she was. _She_ was more interested in the monies anyway.

"Gyahahahaha! Yes, _YES,_ surrender your worthless monies to your Irken overlords! Let me bask in the puny light of your inherent inferiority! Hahahaha!" Zim maniacally boasted.

She couldn't help but smile at him: such a charming, sweet evil laughter he had. And such an over-the-top expressions. She really wished Irkens could have partners publicly: if they could, she would have immediately picked him up and kissed him right in front of everybody.

From her judgement, that second heist had been more fruitful than the first one, but they still have quite the run before they could reach the goal of 20,000 monies.

In the end, they visited another four places like that, all with similar results but the _last one:_ as their last prey, Driver picked a slightly bigger place than the other, this time one that was almost all closed already. Not an ideal choice, but at that point they'd spent _hours_ on the planet, and she had seen people in the background snatching photos of them and sending messages in secret during the two latest operations: they didn't have a lot of time before word would get to the authority and they'd realize a bunch of their stores had been scammed by two foreigners.

As they approached that bigger supermarket, the Cruiser hidden among the bushes of a park next to it, they came upon a security guard dressed in a similar fashion as the other two on the space station. When he saw Zim, he gave them the same old surprised and horrified all the other people had.

"No need to panic, sir!" she greeted him with a jovial smile, "Sorry to disturb you at such a late hour, but we're here for a _tribute collection job_. Just step aside and disable the security system for us, please".

Surprisingly, the guard didn't budge, standing right in his place in front of the supermarket. If anything, he looked even _calmer_ than before.

"I was never notified of a tribute collector coming here in person".

 _"You dare speak against us?!"_ Zim shouted "Step aside, _guardian-drone!_ This is a _direct order_ from the Irken higher-ups!", he held out the fake document.

"May I see it?" the guard asked, extending his hand towards him.

Zim's bravado quickly vanished, surprised at the guard's calm reaction. Dubious and unsure, he looked once again at her for advice.

 _Masters don't look for help from their slaves,_ she thought.

She looked up at the sky, pretending to be talking to herself:

"I don't see why we shouldn't show it to him".

Zim handed the fake permit to the guard.

"This is hand-written" the guard immediately, bluntly pointed out.

"The printer was broken. _That's_ why we are collecting an _emergency tribute_ early"" she explained condescendingly.

"This doesn't seem official" the guard continued, "'The Irken Empire requires you all to surrender an early tribute to our two delegates, the tax collector _Zam_ and his Blerchian ~~assistant~~ slave, Sharice'" he read the sheet.

"We know what that says, old man" she growled.

"Why is 'assistant' crossed off?" the guard asked.

"It was a typo. Happens all the time when you write by hand"

"Yeah! And- HEY! Why did you spell my name wrong?" Zim asked.

"Er-!" she turned to him, thrown-off, _"Master Zam,_ _that's_ your name. I didn't spell it wrong!"

"What are talking abou-OH! Ohhh, I get it. It's a _fake_ name _you_ made up! So if they find out we are lying, they can't trace our names back!" Zim laughed off.

Driver and the guard both stared at him, dumbfounded.

_Oh, baby. Why do you forget to think at the worst possible times?_

"Oh. So _that's_ how it is" the guard commented.

Zim gasped, finally realizing his mistake.

"Uhm- eh- never mind what I just said!" he stammered, "J-just let us in!"

An angry, disapproving look on his face, the guard folded the fake permit and ripped the paper in smaller and smaller pieces as he spoke:

"Do you have any idea what kind of _damage_ you are doing?! You _two_ are playing with the _precarious balance_ of this _very Universe!_ You just put at risk the lives of all the people on this planet! Taking advantage of their _trust_ and their _fears!_ Don't you have an _ounce_ of _shame_ in yourselves? If you did, you would immediately surrender all those monies back to the honest people you stole them from! _And even if you did,_ you would still have to answer for your actions not only to the Flordian State and the Irken Empire alike, but to the very Great Ruler of all Life himself! Do not be foolish- there is _no_ running away from your crimes, one way or another! Not even in the _afterlife! What do you have to say for yourselves?"_

After that last sentence, he threw the little pieces of paper in their faces.

Driver and Zim looked guiltily at pieces of paper slowly falling to the ground. They looked at each other. They looked back at the guard.

Driver swung her club up and hit the guard right into the left side of his face: spills of violet blood flew in the air; he spun on himself twice, then fell on the pavement, completely still.

Zim turned to stare at her, mouth agape.

"S-Sorry" she stuttered, her breath short from the sudden rush of adrenaline, club still held high, "I-I panicked"

"You... should... _panic_ all the time" Zim murmured with dreamy eyes.

"Come on, hold this for me" she handed the club to Zim and started dragging the guard by his feet inside the supermarket, out of any possible looks from the residents. Using his keys and his pass card, they managed to enter the closed supermarket without making any of the alarms sound.

Of course, inside was pitch black; but since it was best not to turn on the lights and alert someone of their presence, they used the built-in flashlight from Zim’s PAK to see.

Thankfully, the guard was just unconscious, and not actually dead like she’d originally thought: she felt guilty about hitting him. He was just doing his job, and he even wasn't all that wrong in his speech. When they left, she would have called an ambulance for him.

When they found the supermarket’s storage room, they taped his hands, feet and mouth, and took away his shock gun, leaving him there for the time being.

As they made their way to the office where the safe supposedly was, Zim wielded her club in the air, feeling its weight.

"This is quite light. I'm surprised you could swing it that way and deal such hits. Is it metal?" he asked.

"Actually, it's lacquered wood"

"What, really? _This_ is made of wood?" he said, looking genuinely impressed.

"Earth wood is light, but hard" she nodded.

"... can I... try it?" he timidly asked.

"Sure!" she smiled.

She knelt beside him; "Here" she said, as she placed his hands in the right places on the club. "Keep your balance low. Part your legs" she instructed as she gently nudged his legs with her hands.

"Now twist your torso like this" she placed her hands on his hips, making his torso rotate to his right. Then, she raised his arms up to his eye level. Then, she got back on her feet and backed away a bit.

"Now _swing!"_

Zim swung the bat with such force he almost lost his balance; it cleaved the air, provoking a rustling sound.

"Oooh! I like the _sound_ it makes!" he exclaimed as he swung it twice more.

"Good! Now _hit something!"_ she encouraged him. 

He looked around him and found a pile of neatly ordered metal cans; he got close, repeated the movements she'd shown him, and hit the pile: it exploded in a myriad of cans, which hit and rolled all over the floor.

"Right on!" she cheered him on clapping her hands.

From a shelf, she grabbed a small, square carton.

"Hey Zim!" she called his attention, "Try and hit this!" she threw it at him from down up, gently and slowly; showing an impressive aptitude, he managed to hit it, and the little carton box flew up, hitting the dark ceiling above them and disappearing behind one of the high shelves.

"A home run on your first hit! You're a natural!"

"Hehe, thank you!" Zim chuckled, resting the club on one of his shoulders, "There is no _tool of destruction_ I cannot use!"

Excited to find something else to hit with the club, she looked around and in the dark she caught a glimpse of something _very interesting:_ _a shopping cart._

"Oooh, Zim! _Zim look! Look!"_ she took one of the carts out of its line and showed it to him like she'd just found an invaluable treasure, "Hop in, dude!"

Amused, Zim used his PAK legs to climb into the shopping chart. Driver placed herself behind it and started pushing it, with Zim swinging the bat left and right, knocking everything that stood in his way off its shelf.

This was so, so stupid. And juvenile. And dangerous, as the only light they were using was Zim's flashlight, but that only served to make the situation even more absurd and _hilarious;_ way more than it must have appeared from the outside, anyway.

Zim's absurd shouting wasn't helping in that regard either:

"Out of the way! Surrender to the mighty club of doom! This planet is mine! Hahahaha! Faster! Go faster, _my slave!"_ he shrilled as he knocked boxes and bottles and cans and entire _shelves_ down.

 _If I or the cart trip over something it's gonna hurt so bad,_ the rational part of her mind thought, and yet somehow the sound of a bunch of unidentified objects falling in the dark around her, combined with Zim's enthusiastic laughter and the overall ridiculousness of that whole situation made it seem like a risk worth taking: she herself was almost in _tears_ from laughing.

_"Hahaha! Oh, my GOD, Zim, I-I can't see, hahaha! We're going to CRASH! Oh- hey, wait, wait, wait!"_

As they passed through the alcohol aisle, she hastily halted the cart's ride to look at the dimly-lighted bottles.

"Oh, come onnn! One more lap!" Zim whined.

"Sorry, man. Your stamina is too much for my weak _human lungs"_ she said as she examined a bottle of red wine: that was some real _fancy_ stuff. Better stockpile it while she could... 

She picked five different bottles of the most expensive, tastier wine she found in the shelves and placed them in the cart, next to Zim and their plastic bag full of monies.

Zim looked carefully at the bottles. Then, he turned to her:

"Hey, are you hungry?", he asked.

"Hmmm... actually... yes" she answered: it was almost the time for their designated 'lunch hour'.

"What would you like to eat? Take you pick!... among the things we didn't destroy"

Zim pointed his index to the sky (ceiling?), and ordered:

"Human! Drive me to the _snack aisle!"_

Driver giggled, and pushed again the shopping chart, albeit at a much slower pace: it didn't take long before they reached the snack aisle, in the part of the supermarket that they still hadn't rampaged through. Of course, because there were no chairs around, they had to sit down to consume their rather unhealthy meal.

They must have looked like the most... nonsensical robbers ever: sitting on the floor, surrounded by snacks and five bottles of expensive wine, a plastic, ripped shopping bag full of money in a shopping cart, still giddy by the havoc they'd wreaked on the supermarket.

"You know, this reminds me of the first month I spent on my own in space" she reminisced as she opened a big bag of chips to share with him, "I ate nothing but junk food for a month. Then I finally learnt how to grow spinach in my garden. My intestines never forgave me for that, though..."

"What do you mean 'junk' food?" Zim asked her, taking a big handful of chips from the back, "I eat this stuff all the time! It's just your human intestines that are weak!"

"Oh, _excuse me_ if we didn't evolve a _trash compactor_ for a stomach like _you aliens"_ she smirked.

When she grew tired of the chips, she started munching on a bar whose taste vaguely reminded her of chocolate, and she began counting the monies: in the end, it amounted to about 17,584. With what was in the safe of this last supermarket, they would no doubt reach their goal of 20k.

"Wow, we were so good!" she beamed as she finished counting.

"Gotta hand it to you human, this was a very good idea!" Zim convened, crumpling up the now empty chip bag.

"Did you have any doubts about it? Just stick with me, Zim, and you'll be _filthy rich_ in no time!" she boasted.

As they searched the floor for a new snack to eat, their hands landed on the same, caramel-and-chocolate Twinkie bar. Slowly, they raised their heads to look at one another.

"Human. That's the last Twinkie" Zim spoke slowly.

"I can see that" she nodded..

"So?"

"'So' what?"

"So hand it over" he pulled it towards himself. She pulled it back.

"I don't think so, mister."

 _"I_ am the master of the whole operation" Zim growled.

"I _thought_ of the whole operation"

"Without _me,_ the operation wouldn't ever have been possible!"

"Yes, well... _I_ have more chromosomes than you!"

"More chromosomes than me and that's the most you managed to do with them?" he taunted her.

"I'm not the one who needs to be plugged to a life support twenty four seven"

"OH! Ohohoh, that was _really_ low, _Blerch-human"!_

"No, it wasn't. But _this_ is"

 _"What_ is- HYAHAHA!"

Her hand shot to his neck and wiggled her fingers; Zim immediately fell back on the floor with a half-shriek, half-laughter yelp. And even though he let the snack go, she doubled down on him anyway, tickling him both in his neck and in belly.

"AAAHHAHA! What-hahaha-s-stop! Stop! I-I said-stop-STOP! Hahaha!" he laughed, rolling on one side to try and escape her attack.

Maybe it was just because of his over-dramatic, overly-touchy nature, but he sounded like he was genuinely suffering under her touch; she drew back her hands from him, and he curled on the floor, knees to his chest, arms crossed, trembling and panting like she was just done torturing him.

 _"How-HOW DARE YOU DEFILE ZIM'S BODY LIKE THAT?!?"_ he shouted indignantly.

"That's what you get for _challenging_ me" she retorted, picking up the Twinkie bar, "Also, please... don't use that type of words. I just _tickled_ you. Human kids do that to _play"_

"How is that _playing?!_ It was _horrifying!"_ Zim protested.

"You know how it is:", she shrugged, "it's _funny_ when it happens to someone _else"_ she grinned smugly at him.

She was about to open and eat the snack, but noticed that Zim was _staring_ at her, like he was like studying her attentively.

She returned his stare for a few seconds. Then, she understood what his intentions were.

"... no way. Don't you DARE do tha-"

Zim viciously threw himself at her neck, imitating her movements with his own hands.

"NO!" she let out a shrill scream, "How dare you! Betrayal! _Betra-hahahah!"_ , as he attacked her stomach, she curled and rolled on the floor away from him. Still giggling, she held out the Twinkie with a shivering arm:

"I surrender. Just take it"

"HA!" Zim wasted no time and snatched the candy bar from her hand, "How could you _possibly_ think of defeating ZiM, a trained soldier, in _direct combat,_ uh?!" he boasted. He ripped the plastic wrapping off the snack and took a triumphant bite out of it.

"Ahhh... defeated by my own technique" she miserably rolled back in front of him. She raised a hand, putting it behind his head to guide his gaze down to her.

"You keep your candy. I'll have myself some _real sugar"_

She stretched her head up, and kissed him; sucking on his lips, she could taste the chocolate and the caramel he'd just eaten. It wasn't probably the most comfortable position for him to kiss her, but as she recalled it'd been quite a while since they last made out- a whole two days, a true record for them-, so he eagerly returned her kiss anyway. 

They kissed like that for a little while, until she couldn't taste the snack on him anymore.

"Hehehe. You taste like chocolate" she then giggled against his lips.

Zim seemed to be quite embarrassed by that; he drew back from her, stammering:

"Th-that's just the Twinkie! I told you not to do that stuff while I'm eating!"

"It's fine. I liked it" she whispered, rolling on her left side and getting up on one elbow. "Chocolate or not, you _always_ taste sweet to me. Makes me wanna _devour you"_

"Er-uh- _what_ , d-did you really turn into a cannibal in the end?" he asked, but judging from his reaction he probably understood that her words were just metaphorical: he just didn't know how to respond to them.

"For you? _Definitely._ If you were a snack, _I'd eat you whole"_

"Stop that- I'm too big for you to do that anyway!"

She took a glance at his crotch. Then looked back at his face.

"Sorry, but I highly doubt that, dude" she smirked, wiggling her eyebrows.

"OH, ALRIGHT! Have the stupid Twinkie!" he shoved it in her face, "Your disgusting, creepy words have spoiled _my appetite!"_

She waved his hand with the candy away.

"Nah, Zim. You earned it. You did a very good job today" she assumed a more serious tone, and finally sat upright. "I'll eat something else"

"... Didn’t you want the Twinkie?” he asked.

“If you want it, I'll gladly leave it to you”

Zim let out a deep breath; then, he broke the Twinkie at its half, giving her the two parts he hadn't chewed on.

“You did half of the job. You get half of the stupid candy” he said as he handed it over to her, ”You made a very impressive Blerchian slave today, human”

Driver looked incredulous at his generous offer. That was... _new._ And _nice. Very_ nice. She took the piece of candy from his hand and ate it.

“I thought you didn’t like ‘trash food’” Zim pointed out.

“Sometimes even trash is good” she shrugged.

“You know, human. You make no sense”

“How so?”

“First, you say you only like eco-biologic food or whatever. _Then,_ it turns out you like trash food too. _Sometimes,_ you are so sweet and kind it makes me want to _throw up._ Then, you turn around and hit people with a _club!_ And so on and so on! You look like two different people in one body!"

“Oh?" she said in a suave voice, "And which part turns you on the most?”

“I’m being serious” he frowned, “Just, _who are you really?”_

“Eh... uhhh” that was actually a pretty difficult question. She'd never really thought much about it.

“Let's just say I am... whoever I feel like being at any given moment”

“But there must be _something_ you prefer! Like- what do you prefer, good or evil?”

“Hmm… I get your point, but... I don’t want to settle for either. It isn’t as weird as you think. Most people have an equal amount of good and evil in them. They just feel compelled to follow one or the other due to their circumstances"

“Not me! There’s not a single trace of good in me!" Zim firmly stated, arms crossed on his chest.

“I know there isn’t, Zim” she reassured him, trying to sound sincere, "But for _many people,_ including me, that's the reality of the matter"

“But, how do you know how to best act? Like, how do you know what's the right thing to do in any given situation?”

Damn. How _prying_ he was today. What'd gotten into him? Was he suddenly... interested in her? Well, that did flatter her but... she also wasn't used to all that attention on his part.

“I don’t, to be honest. Mostly, I just, y'know... follow my instincts, I guess? Sometimes instead, I think of what God would want of me. Sometimes, I ignore it anyway, and tell him I’ll make up for it later. And sometimes, I genuinely _forget_ to think of it in the first place. I _swear"_ she crossed her chest, looking up at the ceiling.

Zim looked in the same direction, as if expecting for God to really be there.

“You make absolutely no sense whatsoever, woman”, Zim repeated with a defeated voice.

“Am I not more interesting that way?” she smirked.

“… yeah… you kinda are” Zim murmured.

“Hey, human?” he suddenly asked.

“Yes?”

“Why don’t you really become my slave?”

“Uh-WHAT?!” she exclaimed.

“I’m _serious!_ Think about it!" he excitedly explained, like he'd just gotten the most wonderful idea, "Every day will be like this: nothing but _pillaging,_ and _destroying,_ and _maiming!_ I think you'd like it a lot! Plus, that way the other Irkens wouldn't be weirded out by seeing me and you being together! Eh... except the weird, gross kissing stuff. That would still weird them out. And it’s too early for that not to be a secret. BUT! Traitors-to-their-own-races-types of slaves are extremely privileged! And you wouldn't be under any Irken either! You'd be under ZiM! You'd be _set for life!"_

“Oh, my. Zim. Is this really the Irken version of a _proposal?”_ she asked, embarrassed.

“Uh… yeah? I’m _proposing_ to you to be my slave, yes”

Zim stared at her with big, hopeful, innocent eyes. Even though the concept of slavery disgusted her to her very core, she found it difficult to say no to such a pretty face.

Besides, even if it was just about collaborating with this Empire of his, she knew better than to involve herself into politics directly: it was _way_ too dangerous. Especially for criminals, who as a general rule could really only trust a few people among their own kind.

And beside even _all of that,_ from what Zim had told her… she didn’t like the Irken Empire. At all. Zim seemed endlessly devoted to it, so maybe in many ways they _did_ treat him right. He seemed to be a rather important figure there too-though he'd probably embellished _a lot_ of those details. But, unbeknownst to Zim himself, their culture had also left him extremely _damaged,_ teaching him to be inherently ashamed of his feelings of love, and attraction, and everything else that they deemed a 'weakness'. Truly, the more she learned about the Empire, the more she could trace Zim's bizarre (for lack of a better word) reactions to very basic _emotions_ back to its teachings and rules. And she found harder and harder not to resent it for that.

But, she recognized that this wasn't the place nor the time for a political discussion. Maybe she'd manage to convince Zim that his Empire was actually not that good for him _later down the line._ And It would probably take a long time, too.

Therefore, for the time being, she tried to avoid that whole discussion:

“Zim. I’ll never be anybody’s slave. Not even yours. As advantageous as that might be. It’s my _pride_ that tells me so”

“Oh, come on! Wouldn't it be better than being under that Mister Krass-monst-”

 _“Imply that I’m the Boss’ slave again and I’ll chew on your face”_ she growled.

Zim widened his eyes in fear, his antennae dropping behind his head.

“Uh-”

“BESIDES, wouldn't it be kind of a downgrade to be reduced to nothing but your slave? Now that we’re finally _friends?”_ she continued.

“Friends?! Irkens have no FRIENDS!”

“Oh, come on Zim” she rolled her eyes, “you can’t even concede me _friendship?_ We cuddled. Had an heart to heart. Saved each other's lives. Robbed a bunch of supermarkets together. That’s the textbook definition of friendship!”

“Is not!” he pouted.

“Well, what’s the equivalent of friendship in Irken?”

“Uh... well... I suppose the closest thing would be 'alliance'"

“Well, then! I’ll be your official first human _ally_ and infiltrator-informant on Earth! Sounds good?”

“Not as good as being my slave, but… close enough I guess” Zim reflected.

“On _one_ condition” she raised her finger.

 _“Condition?”_ Zim asked suspiciously.

“Gimme a kiss” she puckered her lips.

“.... human, we _just_ kissed-”

“Kiss me or NO alliance”

Zim huffed in annoyance. He leaned in and gave her a quick peck on her cheek.

“What am I, your grandmother? Kiss me properly” she complained.

“You know that thing about gnawing my face? _I can do that too”_ he threatened her.

“That’s close enough. I’ll take it” she smiled, closing her eyes and offering him her face.

Zim grabbed her cheeks and pulled her towards him, pressing his lips strongly against hers; then, he drew back, sucking on her upper lip.

“There. Was that enough un-grandmother-like for you?”

"A deal's a deal, mister" she nodded and held out her hand.

He took it and shook it.

Driver got up and fetched two bottles of wine from the shopping cart; she popped one open, using her swiss knife.

"Come on, Zim, have a toast with me! We gotta celebrate!"

Zim frowned.

"I told you. I will never have another drop of alcohol after what happened that night"

"I distinctly remember you chocking on some wine to impress me and Mister Krassmann at-"

"ZiMdidnosuchthing. The puny mass of flesh between your ears must be malfunctioning" Zim quickly interrupted her.

"Come on, man. It's our first proper date!"

"'Date'? What do you mean?"

"You know, it's like... when two people who like each other...'s company spend some quality time together somewhere, doing something fun! Come onnnn, please? Just one sip? For me?" she blinked her eyelashes at him. "This is the sweet kind that you like so much! You won't get drunk again, I promise!" she handed him one of the bottles.

Hesitantly, he took it in his hand.

"... okay. But just _one_ sip".

"Oh, right on!" she beamed.

With one hand, she raised her bottle high:

“To the mighty Irken Empire, which indirectly founded this expedition. May our… alliance continue for the centuries to come! Or, well. Considering my probable lifespan, for the next sixty years!”

She threw her head back and gobbled up a good portion of the wine. Zim instead, took a teensy, wittle sip out of his own bottle, shivering a little at the alcohol pouring down his throat.

As she smiled at him, and it _hit_ her, the thought:

_Oh my God. That’s my boyfriend over there. I have a boyfriend now. Who would have ever thought?_

“What are you staring at?” he asked her.

“Just thinking how attractive and handsome and perfect my Irken _ally_ is”

“Hah... I see...” he looked away, blushing.

“And pretty and cute and awesome....”

“Okay, that’s enough-"

“And incredible, and gorgeous, and-”

“I get that, human! Don’t tell me what I already know!" he sharply stood up.

“Don't we have one last safe to empty? Let's go"

“Right behind you, my tiny, bashful ally” she smiled has she stood up as well, picking her club back up from the floor.

“Enough with the mockery!" he hissed, "You know, I still think 'master' would be the most apt word for you to refer to me as!"

“It’s either 'ally' or 'boyfriend', dude" she shook her head, "Your choice”

“… are all the women from your race as insufferable as you are?” he asked her.

She giggled, resting her club back on her shoulder.

"Only the best ones", she winked at him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I made my calculations and they should be having sex in like, five more chapters. In case anybody was interested. Hehehe. It's 3 am I am so tired.


	16. The Perfect Gift (To Show You My Squintz)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Zim tries to return Driver's affection by giving her the perfect present and prove that he's indeed a worthy partner for her-he's not in love with her though, okay? He's in squintz with her. Big difference.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the length. Sorry for the title. This chapter was very difficult to write. I hope you appreciate it. It gets very intense at the end.

Zim took a bite out of the Space Bounty he was holding in his hand and sunk back into his chair with a satisfied, content sigh, thinking back to the day he’d just had.

And man, what _great,_ _pleasant_ day it’d been! Truly, he didn’t remember the last time he'd had so much fun! The _feasting,_ the _ransacking_ _,_ the _ravaging!_ It really had felt like he was raiding a planet to conquer it, with the sniveling, frightened victims of another planet groveling before his feet, offering him their tributes _and_ their reverence, like he really was the absolute, unquestioned ruler of their planet! Just the memory of it was enough to still fill him with pride and excitement. Oh how he wished he could have spread his havoc further! Or at least, stayed longer!

And of course, the Driver human had played a big part in all of that: he already knew that she could get violent, if not outright _scary_ at times, but this time she'd _really_ caught him by surprise, both with her cunning extortion plan, and, even more, with the absolute, _evil_ glee she’d executed it with; those malicious facial expressions, those swift and precise swings with her club, that confident smug attitude, those exalted focused eyes, just by looking at her it was apparent that she enjoyed bending other people to her whims and causing havoc and destruction almost as much as him.

A small smile escaped his lips as he remembered his favorite moments from their little escapade- her _smiles,_ her _threats,_ her _laughter,_ her _touches,_ her _kisses..._

 _Driver, Driver, Driver,_ even just _thinking_ about her _name_ was enough to make his face blush, and his heart race, and insides flutter, and his crotch burn- alright, there was definitely something _wrong_ with that part of his body; clearly, it wasn’t just a random body spasm like he’d initially thought: that same sensation had presented itself several times during that day, usually prompted by the touch of the human, or an excessively intense _thought_ about the human. It was especially weird, because he didn’t remember any particularly important part of his body being there; if anything, that was the _least_ vital, useful part of his body. At the same time, it didn’t _hurt,_ not exactly, the closest descriptor would have probably been ‘uncomfortable and distracting’, and yet… he kind of _liked_ experiencing it. For… _some_ reason. So maybe it wasn’t that big of a deal after all? More probably, it was just another bizarre organ shift provoked by the human’s influence that he needed to get accustomed to: once he got desensitized to it, it would surely, at least for the most part, go away. Surely.

He swung his legs over the chair’s edge, trying to mitigate that sensation, and took another bite out of the candy, still thinking about the Driver human. Already, he couldn’t wait for another chance to see her face, hear her voice, and talk to her and kiss her- oh, how good it felt to finally be able to fantasize about her without guilt or shame overcoming him! It made him seriously question whether all that resistance on his part had really been worth it.

Munching on the last part of the candy, he looked over a the little monitor on the panel control that displayed the current time: a mere 0:37 am. So almost another eight hours before the human woke from her sleep again.

He look longingly at the door of her chamber at the other end of the ship, and exhaled in frustration. This was so stupid. They were but a couple of rooms apart, yet he couldn't even see her because her primitive body needed _recharging._ Maybe when she woke up he would have offered to build her a brain battery, like the one in his PAK. Seriously, who in their right mind would have willingly lost a quarter of their life to _sleep?_

He felt the strong urge to go to her chamber and poke her awake; even a few-minutes-worth talk would have sufficed. He could’ve asked her how the sleep session was going so far. Perhaps he would’ve managed to slip in a couple of kisses and caresses too. How much could it really hurt? Yet he knew how essential slumbering was to a human's fragile bodily balance. He’d heard once, if a human were to be suddenly woken up, they’d be at a serious risk of _dying._ It did sound a bit dramatic, but he dared not taking that chance with Driver.

He crumpled up the empty candy wrapping and tossed it in a can under the panel control. He needed to find something else to keep himself entertained until she woke up. Fair enough! So far, he'd made it perfectly fine without the human, how hard could it be now?

He looked at the control room around him. Playing games? Meh. That dumb, unbeatable, cheating game was burning him out; to his knowledge that was the only game she'd brought along for fear of losing them in an eventual accident. Building a small, simple contraption? But he didn’t have the materials to do it. Unless of course he counted the ship around him, but he wasn’t sure Driver would have ever given him permission to take her ship apart, even if he promised to put it back together again. For a moment, he even considered just going to sleep for a couple of hours, but he hated the idea of wasting precious time of his life on _nothing._ Besides, he'd promised the human that he'd guard the ship as a night guard. Perhaps he should have just focused on that task then.

He turned on the radio, keeping the volume low as to not wake the human up, and looked out the windshield of the ship as it auto-piloted itself through space. He lazily rested his chin on his hands, and huffed.

A few minutes in, and already this was boring him out of his mind. Nothing special about that part of space. Nothing worthwhile in sight. Awful alien music on every radio station. He looked over at the clock again: 0:49. _Perfect._

"Arrgh! Stupid _sleep..._ stupid... _time"_ he groaned rubbing his eyes.

This sort of thing would never happen back in his base on Earth: there was always something _to do,_ something _to worry about,_ from crafting a scheme to doom the humans, to building machines to doom the humans, to studying the humans to doom the humans, to dooming that one _specific_ human with a big head whose name he refused to even _think_ of. And besides all of that, his base was always so _lively:_ Gir would always be running around, and causing trouble and mayhem that he would then have to repair; and if he ever got bored, he could always entertain an extremely insightful, deep conversation with Minimoose. Or watch tv with Gir, Or ask Computer to entertain him with some sickening, yet fascinating curiosity from the human world. And most importantly, none of them ever needed to sleep: so whenever he needed them, they were always there for him.

 _Why did Driver have to be the one to need sleep out of all of them?!_ , he lamented massaging his temples, _Couldn’t it_ _have_ _be_ _en_ _Gir? For, like… sixteen or more hours a day, ideally?_

He blocked out the radio’s obnoxious music, concentrating of the background noise; or more accurately, the lack thereof: Driver’s the ship was empty and quiet, save for the low humming of the engines and the plumbing around him. How she could travel inside of that flying, boring _box_ for days straight, all by herself, was far beyond him.

He focused his eyes on a sun relatively close to their route, and watched it slowly getting a bit bigger the more the ship advanced. And in the meantime, he thought about Gir. He wondered what he was doing at that time. Was he bored too, without a master to give him orders? Nah, he couldn’t really picture Gir ever being bored. No matter where he was, he could always find something entertaining to do, a skill he wished he shared right about now. He wondered if Gir ever thought about him, if the short-circuits his insane little mind produced could even be considered ‘thinking’: did he ever miss his master? Was he trying to somehow reunite with him? Or to complete the mission, if really the Earth had been simply neatly removed from one place to another? And if so... what did he think about his master accidentally leaving him there on that filthy rock in an intraspacial sack?

That thought made Zim’s insides churn in discomfort.

No, _calm down._ Gir definitely didn’t have the awareness necessary to think that. Even if he did, a servant should never contest under any circumstances his master’s actions! Not even a... massive, _abysmal_ mistake like the one he’d committed.

Zim tried to turn up the horrible alien music, not by much, but enough to concentrate on it and banish those thoughts.

Unfortunately, it didn’t work, his mind wandering instead to Minimoose: what about _him?_ _He_ was pretty smart. He was sure the inextinguishable loyalty he’d programmed into him would safely keep him from ever betraying him, but… that didn’t mean he couldn’t be _disappointed_ in him.

Another uncomfortable churn in his insides, this time stronger. Zim clasped his belly with his hand, trying to keep his organs in their places.

Wait... and what about the _Tallest?_ He'd disappeared with no notice whatsoever with the empty promise of centrifuging the humans out of their own planet, and that plan had backfired in the most spectacularly horrible way possible: not only were the humans still on Earth, they were now somewhere _safe,_ where the Irken Empire couldn’t conquer them.

The Tallest surely must have noticed his missed report. What… what if they ever tried to call his base, but he wasn’t there to answer? Maybe they'd had already done it… did they think he was dead? Or worse… incompetent?

His anxiety reached an all time peak and he had to physically restrain himself from calling them with the ship’s communicating system. He knew that wouldn’t have helped him: they would have realized he wasn't on Earth. They would have thought he’d failed and abandoned the super important, secret mission they had assigned to him specifically. And what then? He would have been extremely lucky if they _only_ re-encoded him again.

A shiver of fear ran through his body. He remembered the horrible experience that re-encoding was: cables forcibly plugging into his PAK, the electric waves invading through his body, forcibly removing files and memories and skills from his very mind and replacing them with different, inferior ones.

 _No!!!,_ he shook his head. He was _not_ going to be re-encoded again. The plan _was_ going to work. The machine _was_ going to work.

This type of unpleasant strings of thoughts was the exact reason why he kept himself distracted and busy all the time: when he wasn't, it wasn’t rare for strange, unpleasant feelings and thoughts like that to make their way into his mind.

He needed to think about _something_ else, _anything_ else; of course it would have been _so_ _m_ _uch_ easier to distract himself if only he had someone to talk to-oh, WAIT! Wait up! There _was_ one person he could call right now! How could he have forgotten about him?!

Excited at that new idea, he turned off the radio, quickly typed at the panel control's keyboard and activated the call feature. He typed in the number and on the ship's windshield appeared a holographic black screen.

The ship’s speakers produced the sound of a telephone ringing, until finally the call was picked up, and there appeared upon the screen the face of the Vortian Prisoner 777.

"Ah, _Prisoner 777",_ Zim smirked evilly, "we meet again!"

"Uhhh... Zim, _you_ called _me"_ Prisoner 777 pointed out.

"YES!” Zim exclaimed, raising his hands dramatically, “Indeed it was _I_ who called _you!_ ZiM!!!"

Prisoner 777 stared at him striking his awesome, theatrical pose.

"Yeah, uh… hi, Zim” he finally found the composure to greet him, “What is this abou- Heeey, wait!" he suddenly exclaimed, "You're not on Earth, are you? That's an alien ship you are standing in!" he noted, stretching his neck left and right as if he could better see the room behind Zim's back.

"Did the inversion of the poles plan work? Did you conquer the Earth? _Does it mean I can have my children back?!_ _"_ he pressed, anxiously hopeful.

"Ehhh, uh-the _plan-_ the plan _halfway_ worked!" Zim asserted, nodding his head, "and, uhm, I'm currently on a top-secret journey to complete the _other_ half of the plan!" he explained.

"The other ‘half’? What _halves?”_ he inquired, _“_ Are my children okay? Where are they?"

"Uuurghhh!!" Zim groaned in annoyance. How could he care about his stupid children, when the amazing great Zim was right in front of him, offering to him his precious attention?

"Your children are safe and sound in my base back on Earth! Don’t worry about it!", he dismissed his worries with a wave of a hand, carefully avoiding to add the word 'probably' to his speech, "No, no, I called you to discuss a _different_ very important matter!"

"... which is?"

"IT'S- uh, uhm, uhhh-" oh man. He should have decided on what to talk to him about _before_ he called him.

Then, he got an idea.

“Oh, OH! Have you heard, 777?" he gloated, resting proudly his hands on his hips, _"I_ _found_ the Irken Empire their very first human infiltrator-ally!"

"Ah... really? Wow, Zim..." Prisoner 777 was so impressed, he could but whisper in a monotone tone.

"Oh, yes! You should see her! She-I mean, not now. She's _sleeping_ right now, in the back. You know how sleeping creatures are. Vortians sleep, like? Pretty pathetic. But anyway, she's truly an outstanding member of her species!”

"Is she?"

"‘IS SHE’?! Hah! _Oh, yes SHE IS!_ She isn’t _at all like all the other humans!_ For one, she has such refined facial features! And her hair is so shiny and long and well-groomed! On other people it looks so disgusting and oily, but not her! It even _smells_ good!” he flailed his arms around in excitement, “And she cooks so well! It doesn’t even taste like food! You know, I’ve been having trouble eating anything that isn’t cooked by her- it all tastes just so dull in comparison! And when she kills- oh you should _see_ how _skillfully_ she uses that gun!”, and he closed his fists in the shape of guns to demonstrate her technique, “It's like- she points it at her enemies, and she _kills_ them!"

"Yeah, Zim, that's... that’s what _guns_ do"

"I know, but it’s so cool when she does it! That woman has style! Heh, you know” he then continued in a lower, even smugger voice, “she has sworn her _eternal loyalty_ to _me._ She’s still kinda iffy about being my slave, though. But don’t worry, I’m slowly warming her up to the idea, and I’m sure she’ll accept the end! She's accompanying me on my mission to conquer the Earth! Hah, yeah, heard that? She would even betray her _own_ people for _me._ And soon, she will be joining the Irken Empire itself as a valuable, talented asset to its army! Still by my side, of course" he spoke, gradually puffing more and more his chest with pride.

"You... called me to talk about your new girlfriend?" Prisoner 777 asked, an expression of annoyance on his face, “To be perfectly honest, Zim, I’m extremely uncomfortable with all of-”

 _"_ _Girlf-_ _!!!"_ Zim jumped in horror, "who said anything about _romanc-y?!?_ Me, having a _girlf-friend?!?_ Ew! Just EW! It's- I would _never_ do such a thing! All that kissing, a-and touching, and _emotional_ _connection,_ and- how dare you even _imply_ such a disgusting thing?! Puah! Things between us two are strictly _plato-professional!_ Get it?! _Don’t tell anyone!_ _"_

"Okay-OKAY, Zim, I get it, I got that wrong! Sorry!” Prisoner 777 tranquilized him, putting his hands up defensively.

"Hmpf!" Zim pouted, crossing his arms on his chest in disapproval, "Yeah, that’s right! You’re _wrong!_ What would you know about romance anyway?!"

"Eh... well... I did use to be married, you know?"

"... you did?"

"Yeah? You have my kids, Zim. Where did you think they came from?"

“EW!” Zim cringed in disgust, _“Evidently,_ my brilliant mind had repressed such a _revolting_ consideration!”

“But, uh...” he then continued more calmly, “what do you mean ‘used to’? Is she dead?”

“Wow, Zim. I thought even _you_ would have a bit more tact-”

“Just answer!”

“… no, uh… we’re… _divorced”_ Prisoner 777 sighed dejected.

“‘ _Dee-vorced?”_ Zim repeated, “what’s that mean?”

“… it means she _left_ me, Zim” he clarified, hissing through gritted teeth.

“She _left_ you?” Zim asked in surprise, “That can happen?!”

“Yeah, Zim. Divorces happen _all_ the time. What are you, Catholic?”

“Am I _what?”_

“What?”

They stared at each other in confusion for a few seconds.

Then, Zim decided to just drop that point and continue:

“So… she left you”

“Yes, Zim. She left me” Prisoner 777 murmured.

“Hah!” Zim scoffed, “That’s so _pitiful!_ You must feel _reeeeeeally_ bad about it, don’t you?”

“You know, Zim, I’m still taking _pills_ over that-”

“Oh yeah, that’s very interesting!” Zim cut him off dismissively, “Tell me, though… just out of pure, _morbid_ curiosity… why did she leave you?”

“Zim, I don’t see why I would ever talk to YOU about that of all peop-”

“And _I_ don’t see why I shouldn’t chuck your children down an active volcano’s crater!” Zim spat.

Prisoner 777 let out another defeated sigh.

“I guess it was mainly because of my job”

“Your _job?”_ Zim repeated, “What, were you bad at it?”

“No, _Zim”_ Prisoner 777 pouted, “If anything, I was too _good_ at it. Before you Irkens _betrayed_ us, I used to be a very respected engineer. But oh, it was very _stressful._ I guess, uh-”, he scratched the back of his head in embarrassment, “My responsibilities were so much, I became anxious and apathetic towards her. In the end, we did nothing but arguing and fighting. I admit I might… have taken out my stress on her a bit. I’m not proud of that”.

Zim’s antennae lowered behind his head. He hated to draw a comparison between him and a _Vortian,_ but… that did remind him of himself and Driver.

 _But that’s okay,_ he reassured himself, _we’ve moved well past it! I apologized! … sort of. We’re not like them! Everything is fine between us!_

“Hah, I see, and, uh… she… _left_ you for that?” he forced out a smile.

Prisoner 777 nodded, all saddened at that memory.

“One day, without any notice, she simply said I wasn’t romantic like I used to be, and that the spark had went out”, he continued; clenching his fists in an unusual expression of anger, he added, “Then she left off and abandoned me and the kids for a _physicist._ What does a physicist even do, besides scribbling on _blackboards?_ What kind of _mother_ leaves her children for a ph-”

“Wait, wait, wait a second! What does ‘romantic’ mean exactly, here?” Zim interrupted him.

"Eh... well, uh, you know… doing stuff for your lover, I guess? Like, stuff that makes them love you even more. Like taking them out to dinner, or on a vacation. Or giving them presents! Women especially are _very_ sensitive about that stuff. They really like to be surprised. Otherwise, they get _bored_ after a while”, Prisoner 777 threw his arms up in frustration, “I guess enjoying each other’s company wasn’t enough anymore! I still can’t _believe_ she would-”

As Prisoner 777 went on with his boring monologue, Zim realized with dread that he’d never done anything romantic for Driver. She, on the other hand? Doing surprising stuff for him that made him… uh… more _attracted_ to her? Yes! Oh, yes all the time! When was the last time _he_ had surprised _her?_ He found himself even more terrified, realizing that he couldn’t recall a notable example of that.

“Well, but- if… if I were doing something wrong, she would notify me, right? Eh- I mean!” he scrambled to correct his mistake, “I’m using the collective ‘I’ here, of course! Not, hehe, not _me_ specifically, of course!”

"It depends” Prisoner 777 shrugged, “Women do prefer more receptive men. They aren’t very direct, and they appreciate a partner that can understand their true state of mind even when they put up a facade. But you know!”, he continued with a more positive intonation, “My therapist says that our relationship ended because of _both_ of us! _She_ should have also been empathetic towards my struggles, and above all, _communication_ is key. You should always tell your partner if you have a problem with them, otherwise-”

“Yes! I get it now!” Zim exclaimed at his sudden revelation, “Your wife _was_ right! All you did to her was _terrible! No wonder_ she left you!”

“You know, Zim. Next time I have a therapy session, I should just put it on your bill. How about that?”

“You _do_ look like you need therapy” Zim convened.

"Does that mean I can go now?" Prisoner 777 said with a small, hopeful smile.

"Uh-no, wait! Why don’t you stay a little longer and uhhhhh- oh! Look!” he held out his hand in front of the screen, “The human showed me this silly little game that you do with your hands! We hold out our hands like this and shake them three times saying 'rock, paper,-"

"Is anything you're going to tell me gonna give me back my children?"

"Nope!"

"Then I seriously must go, Zim. My traumas don’t tell themselves the therapist"

"No, wait, don’t-"

Prisoner 777 pressed a button in the bottom corner of the screen and cut out the transmission. And just like that, he was alone again in the empty, quiet space ship.

Zim slowly sunk back into his chair, disappointed by the end result of the call: it had had the opposite effect to what he’d intended, increasing his anxieties instead of lowering them.

He collected his legs to his chest and hugged them tight with his arms. So, great. The _one_ thing he thought was going great for him was actually _not_ going good at all! Now that he thought about it, it was so obvious that it would end like this. He didn't know much about romantic relationships- he had studied them a bit back when he was pretending to be with Tak, and he knew there were certain roles the members of a couple needed to perform for them to work, but he wasn’t at all prepared to be in an _actual_ one. And yes, he wasn’t _actually_ in love with Driver- Irkens couldn’t _love_ after all. If there was an Irken way to define how he felt about her, it was more like…. _‘squintz’!_ Yeah, he was _in squintz_ with her!- but from her _human_ perspective they _were_ lovers, or at least something very similar to that. Ergo, it wasn’t much of a stretch to think she’d expect him to act like one.

Zim felt his heart pounding in his chest from his apprehension. Was it possible, that underneath her happy smile Driver was actually unsatisfied with him? And that one day, out of nowhere, she would just leave, telling him that he wasn’t good enough for her, like Prisoner 777’s wife had done?

 _No!,_ Zim denied to himself, _ZiM is amazing! You’re nothing like that pathetic Vortian! No one in their right mind would ever think of leaving you!_

 _Is that why you’re always alone?,_ a cruel voice mocked him from inside his mind.

He trembled, shaken by that horrible, absolutely _baseless_ thought. It didn’t matter to him if he was alone. Which he wasn’t, _anyway!_ He had _Driver!_ Save for her sleeping hours, she was always there when he needed her, to help him, or talk to him, or listen to him, or play, cook, kiss, rob, destroy, hug, anything!… while _he_ did nothing for _her._

With a sudden movement, he distended his legs out, sitting upright on the chair.

He needed to pay her back. He needed to make up for all the times he’d taken out his frustrations on her. And he needed to do it quickly! It could have been too late by that point and he wouldn’t have even known: he couldn't afford to lose her too!

He opened the ship’s internet, and typed ‘romantic relationship’ in the search bar: the next day, he would to prove to her that he could be (or, well, _act like)_ the perfect love-worm-pig, no matter what.

After several hours, he finally heard the alarm clock in Driver’s chamber go off; he eagerly positioned himself right next to the door, standing on the tip of his toes with anticipation. A few seconds later, the door slid open, revealing a very sleepy-looking human behind it.

He was so happy and relieved at finally meeting her, awake and aware, that he greeted her with a little more enthusiasm and loudness than he intended:

"GOOD MORNING, HUMAN!", he shouted.

 _"W_ _a_ _h!"_ the human made an alarmed jump backwards, leaning against the doorframe, hand darting to her chest.

As she looked down to him, realizing what the source of that shout had been, she immediately calmed down and relaxed.

"G-Good morning, Zim. _God,_ don’t stay in front of the door like that! You almost gave me a heart attack!" she reprimanded him with a smile.

“ _Surprised,_ weren’t you?” he grinned, mentally taking note of that first earned point, "Did you enjoy your session of biologically required sleep?"

 _"Yeahhh"_ her mouth opened in an adorable yawn as she massaged her eyes, "I think I dreamt something, but I don't remember it..."

"Aw, that's too bad. Hopefully next time you'll be able to remember your sleep-induced hallucinations” and as he said that, he opened with the click of a button on the wall the door to the kitchen.

"C'me on in, let's have breakfast!" he invited her in.

The human looked pleasantly surprised to see that already he had predisposed the bowls, the cereal box, and the milk on the table.

"Aw, how nice of you!" she commented, “it’s all already in its place!”

Before she could even take one step in, he darted to her usual chair, disengaged it from the floor and pulled it back for her to sit; the human stopped to look at him, amused and surprised.

“What’s… going on?”

“Breakfast! Provided that you _do_ take a seat” he shook the chair to encourage her to come forth.

Hesitant but smiling, the human came and stood between the chair and the table; he delicately pushed the chair under her, and she sat on it. _Maneuver perfectly executed._ He had done well exercising it a few times beforehand.

Moving quickly, he jumped on his own chair and while standing on it started pouring the milk in the bowls.

“Oh, no, Zim, you don’t have to do that-”

"Don't worry! It's no hustle! ZiM is awesome in the kitchen, you know!" he reassured her.

"Oh, really? Is that why you're pouring the milk before the cereal?" she smirked.

"Eh-" he stopped lifted the carton back up, "I’m doing it the wrong way?"

"Nah, it's just a joke. To be honest, it's kind of a _guilty pleasure_ of mine. Say, what else can you cook?"

Having finished pouring the milk, he proceeded to fill the bowls with cereal.

"Well, uh..." he reflected, "Sandwiches, and... fried stuff"

"Ah, cereal, sandwiches, and fried food. The three staple foods of the single man" she chuckled.

"Good thing I’m neither of those things, then” he retorted, “You know, I once baked a cake too, with- ehhh. _Chocolate._ And _flour”,_ he managed to correct himself before the word ‘Gir’ could escape his mouth.

When he was finally done, with the bowls, he sat back on his chair and they both started eating.

"No but seriously, why did you prepare breakfast today?" she said, munching on a spoonful of cereal.

"It's just part of our _alliance contract"_ he waved his spoon in the air, "Shiphold duties should be equally shared by the members!”

"Awwww!" she cooed, "You are so cute when you act that formal!"

Zim lowered his eyes, blushing.

"I-I just like to do things the right way is all" he mumbled.

"I know, and I agree" she nodded. "Equal sharing is _very_ nice"

“Oh, but this is not the only thing I prepared for today!”

The human lifted her head up in curiosity, and he drew out of his PAK the sheet of paper upon which he’d written the plan for that day.

“See, while you were asleep, I took the liberty to plan out the perfect Squintz Day, fitting as many squintz-activities in the span of the next twenty-four hours! It only took me _five_ hours! Here we start with-”

“Wait up!” she lifted a hand, “What’s a ‘squintz’?”

“Oh, it’s just when you enjoy a person’s company and worry about their well-being!”

“Isn’t that just ‘lov-”

“HERE, we start with a stroll around the park of Yur. Now, Yur is four galaxies from here, so provided that we can maintain the maximum speed this ship can travel at, we should be there in five hours. That means we’ll have a whole TEN minutes for the stroll, which we’re going to have to perform at a walking velocity of 50 miles per hour-”

“Do we _have_ to travel that far for a _walk?”_

“It’s the closest park to where we are now!”

“Ah”

“Now _luckily_ for us, a planet in that same galaxy hosts a big mall where a variety of activities will be possible! Here in order are, drinking a milkshake, bowling, cinema, interpretative dancing-”

“Woah, you mean. All in _one_ day?”

“It will be very well possible, performing each of them in an average time of 1.263 minutes!” he nodded, “That will give us time to travel back two galaxies and enjoy about fifteen minutes on the beach of Tuccin. Now I know what you’re thinking: Tuccin’s beach is artificial. BUT, consider this: actual sea water is gross. _And_ they also have a fake full moon to illuminate it, _much_ shinier than a natural one, under which we-”

“Wait, Zim, let me stop you for a moment” she interrupted him, “It’s _very_ impressive that you managed to fit an entire week’s plan in one day, don’t get me wrong, but… today is _Market Day._ Remember? We have to work and buy the parts for the machine. No?”

“… Zim? Zim, are you there?”

"Eh, ah- er... _yeah!_ Yeah, I- I _totally_ remembered that, of course, hahaha!” he snapped out of his momentary catatonic state, fitting the sheet back into his PAK, “eh, are you... _sure_ there isn't a beach near Tiyo's market?"

"Not really, buuut, there are still some fun things to do there anyway! The food for one is very good. And the market is very pretty at night! They turn on all these little lights, and there’s less people walking, it’s quite charming! We can still have a stroll there, after we’re done shopping! I was thinking, first we should go buy the legal stuff in the mechanics area, like the ship, and the cathodic… psycho-somethings...”

Zim listened attentively to her describing what their _actual_ day was going to be like (listening was apparently a question of _life and death_ in relationships), pretending to be fine and smiling, but deep down he felt extremely anxious that once again _she_ was the one taking the initiative. She didn’t _seem_ to mind, sure, but… what if she was just pretending like _he_ was?

Still, no need to get so discouraged! The day was still long, and this was just a small slip in the scope of the Big Climb to Perfect Relationshiphood he was going to make that day! Shopping _was_ after all on the list of couple-typical things to do. His great mind would have surely adapted to the situation and come up with _other_ ideas to impress her!

They arrived at the market shortly after their meal -and Zim of course volunteered to wash the dishes, even though he absolutely loathed that activity with every fiber of his being, much to the human’s surprise and _praise_.

He was surprised to see that Tiyo wasn’t actually a planet like he’d imagined, but rather a giant artificial platform of irregular shape placed in the middle of space and under a sun’s light; according to Driver, it slowly spun on itself like a planet, in order to simulate a day-night circle.

The human directed the ship towards it, and docked at the nearest harbor on the platform’s edge.

As they boarded off, descending the ship’s outer stairs, the market reminded him a lot, on first impact, of Ghjitif 89-r, as it was heavily crowded with many different alien species, and with no tall buildings inside; other than that though, they were completely different: the climate was much chiller, the sky had a pinkish hue to it, and above all, everybody, from the customers to the sellers behind the stands, was screaming at the top of their lungs in a horribly loud, _hellish_ cacophony. It was gonna take a while before his ears got used to all that noise after having spent so much time on Driver’s quiet ship.

"Oookay", the human drew a map of the place from the back pocket in her pants and spread it open. "The mechanics section is to the east. They'll probably have practically everything that we need there. You got the monies, right?"

"I do" Zim confirmed, shaking the suitcase that the Krassmann had given him. "You know, as I was counting them I noticed that some of the bills have blood stains on them"

"Ooh, how generous of him! You know, in the illegal area blood stained monies are worth even more than their normal value!"

"Oh. Uh... I guess. Very _nice_ indeed" Zim muttered. If she hoped he would ever thank the Krassmann _explicitly,_ she was _sorely_ mistaken.

“Well, then”, folded the map and handed it to him, “You go there, and I’ll look for the magnet and the small planet in the illegal area”

“… you mean… _separately?”_ he asked, incredulous.

“Yeah, sure. If we don’t split up up, it’ll take forever!”

Zim began shaking.

No, no, no! If they split up, how could he prove his worthiness to her? He needed to stay by her side at any cost!

“Wait, human, don’t you think it would be _dangerous_ to go alone?” he tried.

“Pfff, please!” she chuckled, “I’ve been there other times! Just because the goods are _stolen_ it doesn’t mean-”

“HUMAN!” staring to her eyes, he channeled all of his strength into his hand, and used it to grab her free one, “I-I… eh… wanna… _be with you”_ he managed to utter out.

Driver stared back at him for a moment; then, her expression melted in a touched smile.

“ _Oh my God, Zim. You’re adorable”_ she squealed.

"Just lead the way!”, he hissed.

"Sure. Come" she smiled, squeezing his hand and pulling him into the mechanics area’s direction.

He blushed, embarrassed and overwhelmed by the close contact of their hands; he knew it was necessary, though: it was the only acceptable form of Pee Dee Ay they could engage in.

They walked along the harbor, headed towards the crowded streets of the market, delimited by stands and tents and shops of all kinds and shapes. As they finally entered the market proper, Zim took in a big breath, and holding up the human’s hand he started screaming:

"BEYOLD, YOU PUNY ALIEN PEOPLE. I am ZiM! And THIS! IS MY. PERSONAL. HUMAN! NOW BOW! BOW BEFORE HER SUPERIOR FIGURE!"

The crowd in front of them turned to look at them in confusion. He looked up with satisfaction at the human, who was displaying a very awkward smile on her face.

“Heh... hel… looo” she murmured; then, she pulled Zim through the street, face down as the crowd still stared at them.

“Zim, what was that?!” she whispered to him.

“I announced your arrival!” he grinned.

“Why?! No one _cares_ I’m here!”

“They _should!_ You are ZiM’s human, of _course-”_

“Yeah, I know, Zim, we’re _awesome,_ but _please_ don’t shout like that _in public”_ she hissed through gritted teeth.

“Ooo-kay, human!” he agreed, though he didn’t really understand her point.

The subsequent portion of the day ended up being pretty tedious and underwhelming: just a whole bunch of looking for the right _store,_ looking for the right object, and _standing in queue_ for the right object. So basically, everything those sites he’d visited about the boredom that _shopping_ involved had turned out to be true.

At the end of each purchase, the human asked for the objects to be shrunk to a minuscule size, so that she could comfortably place and carry them inside of an envelope until they reached the hidden lab.

He supposed he should have been excited to see the pieces of his machine finally, concretely coming together- and he was, _sure,_ but not as much as _he could;_ truth to be told, the human occupied most of his mind at the moment: the market simply didn't provide as many chances to perform coupley activities like say a beach, or a park, or even a _sofa_ could. All that he could to in such a public place was holding her hand, while the other couples around them shared kisses, and hugs, and other effusions; he genuinely couldn’t tell if he’d just grown more sensitive to detecting couples, or if they’d all somehow manifested overnight just to spite them, because he didn’t remember ever seeing that _many_ in one place.

One chance to finally show off in front of her presented itself as they made their way to the illegal area of the market, in the afternoon: he’d been shooting hostile looks to anybody who dared to look too much at Driver all day, but this one guy here had the gall to keep staring at her even _after_ his ocular warning.

His retaliation was repentine, as he threw himself onto the guy, grounding him.

“ _Stop gawking at her, you PEEPER!”_ he shouted, drawing out the lasers out of his PAK, “You want me to fry your BRAINS, uh?!”

But before he could blast his utterly confused and frightened face off, the human picked him up from behind and ran away with him, yelling an embarrassed _“Sorry!”_ as they fled.

Once they were far from the scene, in an empty side alleyway, the human put him down and bent over him with a somewhat scared and upset face:

“What the FRESH HELL was that?!” she hissed, “Are you trying to get us arrested?!”

“I just defended your _honor,_ woman!” he protested, “That creep was staring at you like he was going to jump at you at any moment!”

“He was ALL eyes, Zim! He had eyes all over his BODY pointing in EVERY direction!”

“See? _Creepy._ You’re very welcome, human” he nodded with proud satisfaction.

The human narrowed her eyes at him, at placed her hands on her hips.

“You’re acting _weird,_ Zim”

“Noooo… what are you talking about, Driver? I’ve always been like that! Thoughtful, caring, attentive, _emotionally aware, and-_ _”_

The human kicked his shin, causing a wave of unimaginable, _stinging_ pain all throughout his leg.

“OW! THAT HURT! THAT REALLY HURT, YOU BIG HAIRY JERK!” he shrilled, curling on the ground around his hurt leg.

“Oh, hello, Zim. Glad to have you back. Where had you been?” she asked in a sarcastic voice.

Zim frowned at her through his teary eyes. Slowly, he sat up on the ground, trying to get back on his feet, still holding fast the point in his leg that she’d kicked.

“I’m trying to be _nice_ to you, you arrogant, ungrateful little- _”_ he growled.

“Tell me the truth _, drama queen”_ she interrupted him, “This has to do with what you talked about with that person last night, doesn’t it?"

"Wha-with WHOM?" he yelled, completely taken aback.

“I heard you speaking to someone last night, right before I fell asleep. Did that call upset you?”

"Eh... uh... no! I didn’t call anyone! It was just the radio! I uhhhh... like... _talking..._ to the radio" he stammered, straightening his back back up.

The human narrowed her eyes again in a suspicious expression.

"Is that so?" she asked.

He hated _and_ loved at the same time how _smart_ she was so, SO much!

"...Yeah" he blurted out, looking away from her uncomfortably.

"Okay, then" she breathed out, "My bad. But still. Stop acting so… _clingy._ And _on edge._ We have a very important job to do. And I don’t wanna be banned by _another_ market, okay? _Let’s_ _go”_ and with that, she turned around and walked away.

Zim hastily followed her, looking down at his feet. Had he messed up again? He didn’t understand. He’d followed the instructions he’d found on the internet perfectly. Why hadn’t she appreciated his efforts? Was _she_ just extremely odd, perhaps?

He sneakily looked up at her: she was walking fast and secure, chin high, tall, and confident. She had smarts _and_ looks. She liked her job and she knew how to do it well. She was a pretty outstanding person in every way. Surely if the amazing Zim were to ever have a squintz-partner, she had to be the most eligible person ever for that position!

And yet… the question at this point wasn’t if _she_ was worthy of _him._ Rather, the opposite.

He wondered what such a person could think of him as he was now. Homeless, insecure, anxious, on the brink of losing his job and his prestige. None of the likely answer he imagined were positive ones.

Zim looked up at the human, and all at once he felt a strong urge to both _run_ from her and _embrace_ her. He desperately wished to hold onto her, and yet felt completely unworthy of that. Suddenly, he felt alone as ever, even more alone than when she’d been asleep the night before.

He felt a heavy weight planting itself in his chest, like he’d just swallowed a big, hard rock.

He squeezed his eyes shut, but of course that did nothing to vanquish that horrible sensation. He _hated_ it. It hurt so, _so_ bad. What could he do to make it _stop?_

"Human?" he called her.

"Yes?" she turned to him.

"Nothing!", he looked away, as if he was surprised that him calling for her had actually worked.. "Nothing at all" he murmured.

What was he even supposed to _tell_ her? That he didn’t feel adequate for her? Then _of course_ she would leave him! He couldn’t just grovel at her feet for help like that. He needed to be strong if he wanted to keep her by his side. He needed to be strong for his mission, and he needed to be strong to have Gir and Minimoose back. He just needed to have a little more patience, work hard, and then, once he succeeded, that terrible sensation would have vanished in thin air, like it was never there in the first place. Probably.

 _One victory. I just need one victory, and then I'll feel good and confident again!,_ he told himself.

He needed to do something for her, _anything_ to impress and surprise her. Maybe a _gift?_ They were in a market, after all. But what could he-

"Oh, here we are!", the human interrupted his train of thought.

She pulled on his hand again, leading him forward faster. At first he didn’t understand what that was all about; then, he looked up at the stand she was dragging him to, and for a moment his eyes widened in complete and utter shock: a stylized Irken face, like the ones his people commonly used to decorate buildings and ships, was on top of the stall, the colors faded and blackened. But as his eyes trailed down, it appeared obvious that the stand had nothing Irken to it except its sign: the saleswoman under it, for one, was _decisively_ not Irken: a chubby, tall-as-Driver, woman with pink skin, fuzzy purple hair and one central eye. It came up to him: that was probably the stand of smuggled Irken goods he and Driver had talked about.

"Oooh, hello there!" the woman exhibited a friendly, sharp-teethed smile to them, "’see anything that interests you?"

“Hi!” Driver returned her smile, “He needs a new shirt. This one has a burnt sleeve"

"Sure! What size do you need, little fella?" the woman bent towards him.

Zim shrunk, crept out by the kind woman’s creepy appearance.

"Well, I wear a T, but-"

"Yessir! I have that in _seven_ colors!" the woman beamed, pointing at a pile of Irken uniforms on the counter between them.

"Pick whichever one you want!" Driver encouraged him, excited, "I was looking forward to giving you a present!"

"A _present?_ For _who_ _m_ _?!"_ he squeaked.

"For you, silly!"

His already distressed heart skipped a beat. He felt he was going to barf right onto her lap any second now.

"You don’t need to give me a _present"_ he hissed, "I can buy my own shirt!"

"I insist, Zim! You burnt yours while you were repairing my ship, it’s the least I can do!"

"No, uh-" he looked at the two women staring with eager glee at him. Were all females _always_ like that, and he just had never _noticed?!_

"I don’t. Need. A new shirt”, he slowly spelled out for her. “You can’t even see the-"

"Of course you do!" she cut him off, "I’m NOT letting my man walk around with half his clothes burned on!"

"It’s not half, it’s barely even a quarter!" Zim protested.

"I don’t get it. Why are you even arguing about this?" Driver huffed. "Whatever. If I buy it as a gift, you will _have_ to wear it"

"I don’t _want_ a gift from you!" he growled.

Driver stared at him in offended surprise.

"You know what? I'll buy this for _me._ And if you ever change your mind, you can wear it. I’ll take the pink one, thanks" she turned back to the saleswoman.

"Don’t worry!" the saleswoman chuckled, "Mine gets all grumpy during the shopping too!"

‘ _Mine’? ‘Mine’_ _WHAT?!,_ Zim narrowed his eyes at her.

The saleswoman put the shirt into a plastic bag, and handed it over to Driver after she placed the monies on a small plate on the counter.

"While you are here, would you like to take a look at something else?” the saleswoman proposed, “Uh! I have some exclusive SIR units here!"

Zim’s antennae perked up. Sir Uni-

The saleswoman picked up a small metal box from the counter; on its top and it stretched out to reveal its internal robotic body: a SIR unit with big glowy green eyes, which then jumped from her hands and landed on the counter, giving him and Driver a little, polite brow.

Zim wished that somebody would just come in and drop a nuclear bomb on all of their heads.

"Okay, to be honest, they don’t have any of the original Irken programming and weapons. Those are _impossible_ to find. So it’s just the outer shell. BUT, they can still do a bunch of stuff! Like cooking, or babysitting! This one dances! Dance, Sir!” the woman nudged the little robot on its bottom: it started doing a cute little ‘dance’ (more like a series of uncoordinated, ungraceful moves) , flailing his little limbs around.

"Awwww!" Driver cooed, "Is Gir a robot like this one? How _cute!”_

 _Yeah... well..._ _G_ _ir_ _is_ _... way more advanced than that. And he dance_ _s_ _better,_ he thought, but felt too weak to let out one word. Hearing someone utter Gir's name aloud had made him feel even more nauseous.

“Well, what about it, mister?” the saleswoman smiled at him.

Zim clenched his fists and gave her a nasty glare.

"I don’t need a SIR unit! I already have a perfectly good one! A real, ferocious one, that actually kills and maims my enemies!" he growled.

"Ooh, my bad” the woman kept on smiling, untouched by his aggressiveness, “Still, I have a lot of things you might need! Spare legs and guns for your PAK for example? They aren’t original, but they _are_ compatible with all Irken PAKs! Oh, by the way” she then leaned on the counter, “You two are very cute together. I’ve never seen an Irken with a companion. It really warms my heart, you know? Irkens are such _loners._ You were very lucky, getting involved with such a cutie! Don’t let her get away, uh?” she winked at him.

Driver chuckled back, flattered, while he flinched uncomfortably. Why did she have to be so _polite_ with everyone around her?

“Say, would you be interested perhaps in doing business with me from time to time?” she continued, “I know it’s risky, but I’d pay you well! I can always use the help of a renegade Irken to help me smuggle some new stuff!”

His jaw dropped all at once, hearing the word "renegade" being applied to him. Normally, he would have fiercely shouted in protest at such a horrible accusation, but instead he found himself at a complete loss of words.

He simply stared at her like that, mouth agape, eyes wide open, like a fish out of water.

Driver’s telepathic powers must have sensed something was aloof, because she immediately barged in:

"Thanks, lady, that'll be all. Bye", she cut the conversation on, grabbing him by the hand and dragging him away.

When they were far enough from the stand not to be heard, Driver asked worriedly:

"Zim... are you okay?" she asked, "Can you tell me what’s going on?"

Zim kept his eyes glued to the ground. Slowly, he looked at the brand new plastic bag she was holding in the other hand, with the present in it.

"Zim?", she shook his hand. "Zim, _look at me"_

He took a deep breath. He looked up, forcing out an expression as neutral as possible.

The human was staring at him, looking worried and concerned.

"Man, you look pale. Are you feeling sick?" she asked.

"No. Why do you ask?"

"You don’t look well, to be honest"

"I feel fine, human" he nodded.

He retreated his hand from hers.

"Driver, can you buy the rest of the required parts on your own? I just remembered I have an errand to run on my own"

"What? What errand?"

"Just personal, private, top-secret, official Irken Invader stuff" he shrugged. Then he opened up the suitcase, in order to give her half of the monies in it.

"Ah..." she said, uncertain, "Okay... but... are you sure you don’t wanna be there? Isn’t it better if you choose the-"

"It’s fine! I trust in your judgment. You were gonna go there alone anyway, no?” he handed over two big stacks of bills.

The human extended her hand, and reluctantly took them.

"Yeah… okay, I guess, but... if something wasn’t alright, you _would t_ ell me, wouldn’t you?"

"Of course" he confirmed, taking one step back.

"Well alright. Text me on the communicator when you are done. And be careful to conmen! There are a lot here!"

"Sure. See you later, human", and turned around, walking quickly and away from the human.

Alright, so. He hadn’t expected at all for her to buy him a present: that meant the scales were even more tipped against him now.

He seriously needed to up his game in those last few hours. What could he do? What more romantic things could he do there? She’d said she would have liked to walk there at night, as she liked the view. Oh! Maybe he could have taken her someplace high to look the market from. But there weren’t buildings high enough for that! No problem, though, he could easily get around that. Would have the simple night lights sufficed? How could he improve on those? Maybe some explosives? Yes, not a bad idea!

But above that, he need a present. Present, present, present. What could he give her? Another cat? Flowers? Chocolate?

He looked around as he followed backwards the street through which they’d come there, and couldn’t see anything that conformed to her tastes.

_Maybe I should just buy some alko-hol and drink until I forget who I am. It felt pretty good last time I did it..._

“Hey, kid!” a voice called loudly behind him, “Kid! You shouldn’t stray away from your mom like that! It’s dangerous in here!"

Zim turned to his side: a bug-like, orange-skinned alien with a weird, purple hat on his head was calling him from inside a weird, shady dark tent.

Was he talking about _Driver?_

"That's not my 'mom'! We look nothing alike!"

"Oooh, I see. Well, if she wants to sell you, the children market is that way over there", he pointed behind Zim’s shoulders. "Trust me kid. The people who _pay_ are _m_ _uch_ better than the ones that have to resort to _kidnapping!"_

"I am an ADULT" Zim's frown and voice deepened.

"... alright, sir” the shady salesman joined his ugly bug-hands and smiled at him, “We've clearly started off the wrong foot. Let me start over. How can I help you, _sir_ _?"_

 _"By shutting up and leaving me alone",_ Zim spat and turned again.

"No, no, wait sir! My stand is a _special_ one! I have the most varied collection of goods in this market, here to satisfy the need of any kind of client! Say what you want and I’ll probably have it! An antennae groomer? High-heeled boots? Or maybe a little something for your... _lady friend?"_

Zim stopped, turning back at him.

"Like... what?"

The salesman grinned widely at him.

"Well, it depends. What kind of stuff does she like?"

"Ehhh…. flowers? Cats? But she already has all that stuff"

"How about some _womanly products?_ Those _always_ come in handy!"

"You... have them?” Zim looked at the sign hanging on top of the tent. “The name of your shop is ‘the garbage corner’”

"That’s what my people call women on my planet!"

"That sounds... pretty _offensive"_ Zim considered, "besides, wasn’t your shop for all kinds of people?"

"Oh my!" the salesman gasped indignant, "You don’t think women are _people?!"_

"Well I do, but-"

"Then come on pal! You and the lady seemed so close! I’m sure a smile on her face will bring a smile on _yours,_ my depressed-looking friend!"

"I’m not-eh, well- the first part is kinda true. But I find it kinda hard to believe that she'll like something just because of her _sex"_

Still, there might’ve been truth to what that extremely untrustworthy-looking alien was saying. On Irk, differences between males and females were pretty much only aesthetic, but he knew that didn’t hold true for a lot of other species.

Zim took a few, cautious steps towards the tent.

"Oooh, trust me, there are certain things all women like! Like looking pretty and clean. Look here, I got hair shampoo, hair decorations, nail polish, perfume, make-up, birth control...”

The salesman listed the products’ names as he drew them from under his counter, laying them above it, where Zim could see them. They looked pretty abhorrent to him: most of them were pink, flashy and glittery _. However…_ he did know those characteristics were associated with girls on Earth. And Driver _did_ like being pretty and clean. So maybe this shady old guy was telling the truth?

"You seem to know a lot about women…" Zim said.

"Ah, see, on my planet there are twenty-nine genders, and seventeen of them are girls!"

"That doesn’t make a lot of sense-"

"Oh yes, our sex is very complicated to foreigners! You know, at least five genders must be present, and then-"

"THANKS. You've made your point!" Zim interrupted him, already shuddering with disgust.

“So what do you say, pal? You buyin’ or not?” the bug-man showed him a hideous, sly smile.

Zim looked down at those pink objects. They did look terrible to him, but humans functioned pretty differently. Sure, he’d never seen Driver use things like those, but maybe this was for the best: she would have been even more surprised once she received them as presents! Maybe this fortuitous encounter was a message from the Universe that yes, actually: he was still, in fact, utterly awesome!

Zim smiled with newfound excitement and relief, picking up the suitcase to draw out the monies.

"Oh, right!" he suddenly remembered, "Where can I find some explosives?"

  
  


Zim spent the next few hours preparing to meet Driver again; when it was time for their appointment, the platform had completely turned on itself: the sky had turned dark, many of the stands were closed, less people were around, and little lamps hanging from the stand and tents everywhere had been lit.

He picked a relatively isolated place at the limit between the legal and illegal area to wait for her, a small little clearing among the closed shops, and texted her his position when he was ready. Grasping the edge of bag with the presents in his little hands, he could barely contain his excitement: what he had in store for her was sure to swipe her off her feet! First the _view,_ then the _presents, then-_ oh, man, the face she would have made! It would have been priceless!

Driver arrived at the place punctually, and greeted him with an enthusiastic, sweet smile that _melted_ his anxious heart.

"Oooh, what’s in that bag, Zim?” she asked as she got close to him.

"Hehehe!" he chuckled, holding the bag out for her to see. A few more minutes, and that awful day would have turned in an amazing one. He couldn’t just couldn’t wait anymore! "You'll see! Oh how you'll see!"

“You seem in a much better shape now. Did what you bought make you happier...?”

Zim didn’t answer, looking around instead to make sure that no one was watching them. Having ensured that, he drew an old-fashioned carpet out the bag and laid it on the ground. He sat down on it, being careful to keep his body _and_ the bag inside its edges.

"Human, would you do me the favor of", he patted the space next to him, "sitting next to me on this carpet?"

"... what is that, Zim?" she asked suspiciously.

"You won’t find out unless you sit" he grinned.

Hesitant but curious, she slowly sat next to him.

"Tell me the truth, Zim. Did you do any drugs without m-wait, is that a _button_ on this carpet?" she pointed at a button sewn into the fabric between the two of them.

“I think you should press it, woman” Zim nodded, “And hold real tight onto something, too. It’s a _rise button”_

“‘Rise button’?” the human scoffed. Still, she lowered her index finger on the button, “What does _that_ even mE _-AAAAAAAH!!!”_

Immediately, as her finger pushed the small button down, the carpet rose in the air with them on it at an incredible speed.

The human threw her arms around his strong, mighty neck for support; and despite the loud sound of the fended air filling his ears, he could still hear her surprised gasps underneath.

"Ah, yes. Full of surprises I am. You're welcome" he patted his hand on her harm, puffing his chest in pride as his improvised contraption carried them higher and higher.

The carpet abruptly stopped at the optimal height he’d calculated, launching them a few feet in the air; they landed safely back on the carpet that was now hovering over the market; Driver let out a sigh of relief.

"Hah, ah, Z-Zim- is...” she stammered, still panting from the adrenaline, “is this a-"

"Flying carpet? Why, yes. Very _rom_ _an_ _tic,_ isn't it? I made it myself, you know. _Just for you"_ he smirked.

The human let go of his neck, and looked under the carpet, balancing herself on her hands.

"This… this is more of a carpet on top of _a giant balloon"_

"An _octopus-shaped_ giant balloon!” he specified.

"W-when did you do this? _How?_ This makes _no sense whatsoever!_ How did you fit all of this in that bag? Under the carpet? In such a short time?! It goes against all the laws of physics and reason!" she exclaimed.

"No pesky _law of physics and reason_ shall ever stand in my or _my human’s_ way!” he declared raising his chin high.

"Well… well, uh. I admit. This is pretty cool” a tentative smile appeared on her face, “Just warn me next time, okay? I _really_ nearly had a heart attack!"

He grinned with satisfaction. Phase one had gone pretty smoothly. Now for the next phase...

“Where did you get the balloon?”

“It’s from a fish market. I tried to buy it, but they refused. So I just stole it”

"Aaah, makes sense. Wow, what a view!” she looked at the distance, amazed, “You can see the whole market from here! This is so incredible, Zim! You really did all of this for _me_ _?"_

She leaned him to kiss him, but he pushed her away by the shoulders: he wanted to keep it for after the _surprise._

"Not so fast, human! The surprises have yet to end!"

The human gasped in excitement and drew back. He stood up on the carpet, puffed his chest, placed his arms behind his back and cleared his throat, repeating the speech he'd prepared for himself earlier.

"You, see, human. Time and time again, you've proven yourself to be an exceptional living being. So exceptional, to be worthy of sharing a place beside the great and mighty ZiiiiM! Truly, you have accomplished what no one else so far ever could. You should be _proud_ of that! And extremely _honored!”_

He grabbed the bag behind himself.

"These and more are the reasons _whyyyy!!!"_ he raised a dramatic finger to the sky, _"I got you some presents"_ he finished with a quieter voice.

"Presents?" the human's eyes widened.

"Yes!"

"For _me?"_ her smile stretched out on her face.

 _"Yes! Lo and behold! Here they_ _are_ _! Feast your eyes upon_ _them!_ _"_ he shouted as he turned the bag over, emptying it on the carpet's surface in front of the human.

"MOST people would settle for ONE present, but of course, there was no way MY squintz-ally would get such a _low_ number of gifts. I carefully selected each and every one of them! Aren’t you amazed?!"

The human was so impressed, she couldn't even keep her smile on her face: it quickly faded away from her face as she stared down at them. For a few seconds, she said nothing. Then, slowly, she turned her head up to him.

"... Zim... what _is_ this stuff?"

Oh. Maybe that was why she didn’t know how to respond: they were _alien_ products, so she was having difficulties in recognizing them.

"Hah, just some standard womanly products that _your_ half of the universe likes so much! You'll find you actually familiar with most of these. See," and he pointed at the objects, "that's shampoo, that’s nail polish, and yadda yadda. It’s all written on the packages!"

She lifted the shampoo bottle up and read the text on its side.

“Zim. What are ‘breestles’?”

"Oh, they are like bristles, only thicker. Why are you asking?”

"… Nothing. Don’t mind me"

She lifted put it down, picking up a smaller bottle.

"And this is-"

"Nail polish!"

"... paint" she said, reading an inscription he hadn’t noticed under its bottom.

"For your _nails._ Which you have, I'm sure of that!"

"Well... the color _is_ pretty, I guess I could try to- oh. 'Toxic. Don't apply on body'" she read.

"It means your body except your nails, _of course!"_ he patiently explained.

“Right”

She lowered the bottle to focus on something else.

“Is that a _bolt?"_ she asked as she took the apple-sized object in her hand.

“Oh, the guy told me it's for your gobnor"

Her eyes widened in shock and she immediately dropped it.

"Isn't that the Zbornk equivalent of a _cervix?”_

“Uhhh...” he stammered, "uh- yeah! Of course! What else would it be?"

“.... do you know what a cervix is?"

"Of course I do! It's a... _girl thing_... right?"

"... you're not wrong, I guess"

That one didn’t sound right. Had he gotten the wrong size? He knew he should have picked a bigger one! Big is always better! But no matter. Just one wrong present among a dozen right ones! Right?

But truth to be told, her shocked reaction was beginning to seem a little too exaggerated, even for presents that he himself had picked. He’d been expecting a way more… enthusiastic, smiley reaction from her.

"Ahem. You can start showering me with praises and thanks any time you want! Just so you know!" he suggested.

"Uh...” the human smiled awkwardly, “this is a very... _thoughtful_ gift" she answered.

He stared back at her, disappointed. Was she... going to settle for that? To say it was underwhelming was a serious understatement.

"... and?"he smiled at her. “Perhaps you wish to try one of them on? Maybe this hat? It has _flowers_ on it!” he lifted the hideous, huge thing in front of her.

"Ah, uhhh... oh! Oh, errr… maybe… maybe after a round in a washing machine! After that, it will be perfect for the Carnival fair next year!"

"But it's for everyday use" Zim pointed out.

"Ahhh... yeahhh, I'm- I'm not sure I'll wear it when you or _anyone_ will be able to see me. But I'll wear it alright" she nodded.

"Listen, Zim” she continued, “How… how much did you pay for these?"

"Oh silly human! Don't you know? You never reveal the price of a present to the receiver!" he shook his head.

"I understand, it’s just... just tell me... PLEASE, tell me you didn't spend more than 20 monies on this stuff" she implored him, her smile now gone from her face.

His antennae fell down in indignation. Was she _implying_ that he’d been cheap?!

"Of course I did!" he protested, picking up an object from the heap, "This _real ruby ring_ alone couldn’t _possibly_ cost less than 20 monies, don't you think!?!"

Driver took it in her hand. She smelled the big red ruby on it. Then, in an explicable, unexpected, _disgusting_ twist she _licked_ it.

"This is _candy,_ Zim"

"……………….… No, it's not"

"Yes it is" she licked it again, giving it a little suckle, "this is _space-strawberry candy"_

He stared at her, speechless.

"Uhhh- did I say _ruby?_ I meant _candy_ ruby! Yes! That's what I meant! I knew it was candy all along, _of course!_ _Hahaha!_ _"_ he chuckled.

"Ahhh... no, Zim" she shook her head, an apologetic look on her face, "No, you didn't. You were _conned,_ weren't you?"

"CONNED? ME?!" Zim screamed in indignation.

"I-it's nothing to be embarrassed about!" she gave him a reassuring smile, "It's totally fine- it happens to _everyone_ in my field! It's sort of a _rite of passage!_ You know, there was one time when _I_ myself was conned, and bought a _horrible-"_

"You MIGHT have been conned and bought something _horrible,_ but I didn't!" he yelled, an accusatory finger pointed at her, "How CAN I, when I’ve bought you such amazing things that you LIKE so much?!"

The human stared at him, guilty ad embarrassed.

"I mean, Zim, I appreciate your effort immensely, but-"

"It's not the effort you should appreciate! You should appreciate the _result!"_ he opened his arms to point at the gifts.

"Ahh... I... I don't wanna lie to you, Zim. These are some _very_ great gifts for some _very_ specific women. Somewhere out there. But. For me. They are a little of, uh... impersonal, maybe? Like. I don't know if they're really... me-presents. You know?"

Zim’s arms lowered and his straightened spine slouched forward, like he’d just been drained of all energies at once.

"… So you _don't like them"_ he murmured.

"I, I- uh..."

He looked down, at the carpet and at the presents, without seeing them. He couldn’t see _anything._ It was like the whole world had disappeared from under his eyes, leaving a dark void.

"D-don't be like that! It's not- I'm not- uh- this isn't a problem, okay?" the human stammered, forcing out a positive voice, "this is actually kind of funny when you think about-"

"… you find this _funny_ _?!"_ he squeaked.

"I- NO!" from the corner of his still-pointed-down eyes, he saw her put her hands up in defense, "No no no, I just meant that this isn't a _big deal!_ Everybody makes mistakes-and it doesn't matter to me! I still got your thought and appreciate your efforts a lot, and _that's_ what matters!"

"This… is a … mistake…?"

He looked at the presents, and he couldn't help but agree: those things did look _horrible._ Like something he'd found in a dumpster. How could he ever think Driver would _like_ any of this stuff? How could he- Wait.

Wait a second.

He _didn't_ want to get Driver a horrible present. _So,_ that meant that _these_ _horrible_ presents _weren't_ actually presents for her. _That_ meant that the perfect gift for her was still out there somewhere! YES! This was it! This was perfectly logical!

"Yes! This _is_ a mistake! Of course these aren't the presents for you!” he exclaimed, a happy, relieved smile on his face, “This was just a decoy, yes! You were going to think that this _garbage_ was your gift, but actually, it wasn’t at all! That way you would be even _more_ impressed when I gave you the real present! Impressive, isn't it?! Your _real_ present is something truly amazing! A toootally different thing! Phew! You totally fell for it, human, HAH! You should have seen your face! Well, you wait here, and I’ll be right back with REAL present!”

He turned around to run off the carpet-balloon, but the human grabbed his arm, cutting his run short.

He looked at her questioningly: she had a very, very serious look on her face.

"You are lying, aren't you?" she said in a low voice.

"I'm- I'm not lying! It's true! This was the _real_ plan all along! I know, I'm SO very good at surprising you, I know! Now, if you just let me-"

"Do you think I'm _stupid,_ Zim?" the human frowned, a harsh edge to her voice.

"N...no?" his smile faded as a surge of fear stung his heart,"Of course not, human. Now let me go-"

He tried to pull back his arm, but her grip fastened even more. Not enough to hurt, but enough to keep him his place.

"Then _stop lying_. I _know_ something's wrong. I'm _not_ letting you go until you tell me what it is!"

"What's _wrong_ is you're _ruining_ my present for you!" he hissed trying to pry her hand from his arm.

"You've been acting weird all day long _! Stop denying it and talk!"_ her voice got more frustrated, and she used her other hand to wrestle his arm away.

"I'm not denying! You- you're _denying!_ Everything is completely fine! I _planned_ this all! This is all going _fine!_ And YOU'RE going to ruin everything with your-" he thrashed even harder.

"This is NOT fine! _You promised me!"_ she got up on her knees, towering above him, yanking him towards her, "You promised not to lie! So _tell. me. the truth!_ "

Zim went very, very still, his heart pounding loud and hard in his chest.

“… s-stop-” he stuttered.”

“Stop _what?”_

“Stop _acting like this!_ You’re- you’re-” _scaring me,_ he wanted to finish.

He stayed silent for a while, but she didn’t let go of him. Her intense eyes were still locked firm into his. They made him so uncomfortable, like they were staring directly into his soul.

"... are you... _angry?"_ he dared to ask.

"Why would I be angry?" she assumed a softer voice.

"Because- because, I- I...” he stammered.

The human finally let his arm go, and caressed his shoulder gently.

"I'm just _worried_ about you" she said, "what's going on, Zim? Why are you acting like this?"

"Nothing! _Nothing,_ it's just, just-”

Those eyes were inescapable, no matter how much he wanted to flee from them. Whether they looked angry and aggressive or soft and sweet, they always had equally strong effect on him.

He didn’t want to tell her the truth. He didn’t even _know_ there was a hidden truth to be told. Yet, her eyes somehow pried from his throat a string of words he didn’t even know he had in him:

"I don't... I'm... _I'm not good at this"_ he finally breathed out, and he _hated_ how chocked out his voice sounded.

And yet, he found himself unable to stop to his mouth from running:

"I'm- I'm not. I'm not, alright? I- I don't know what to do. I've... never... done this before- being with someone, I mean" he tried his hardest to keep his voice firmer, but his whole _body_ was trembling, and so where his tongue and his lips.

"I-I thought that I would know how to _act,_ but I don't. I don't know what to SAY or what to DO. When I'm with you I have- most of the time I have _no_ idea what's even going on! I had to ask for advice to a Vortian! A VORTIAN! It makes me-", and then he muttered under his breath _"_ _It makes me_ _feel so stupid"._

 _"I_ make you feel stupid?" she asked worriedly.

For a split second, he considered saying yes and blaming her, but was immediately hit by a wave of shame: it wouldn’t have been fair. He couldn't do that to her again, especially not now that she was so worried about him. And so, he blamed the _only_ other person that could be held responsible:

"N-no, I... _I_ make... myself... feel... stupid" he blurted out.

"I- I mean, you always know what to do!” he continued, “You know what to say to me, and how to touch me- I mean, who _knew_ having my nape scratched would feel so good?! I didn't! I never even _tried_ to! But you did, and it felt incredible! I barely even ever touch my nape but you _knew_ it straight away! A-and not just that, you, you always do... _stuff_ for me! You _always_ have! But I’ve never… I… I’ve never done anything for you!”

He paused for a moment to catch his breath, feeling utterly broken and embarrassed. Had any of his mumbling even made the slightest sense? If she didn’t want to leave him before, now she surely did.

"I guess I just... wanted to make you happy too, for once" he summed up, looking guiltily at his feet.

"Zim, you..." the human finally spoke. She took a deep breath.

"Okay. Zim?" she called him, grabbing both his hands with hers, "Zim, look at me".

Though her voice sounded sweet and encouraging, he really didn't want to do that.

Slowly, he lifted his head up, and braced himself for whatever she was going to say.

"I'm gonna lay it all on you. I admit we had a rough start. We both acted like jerks to each other. It was pretty ugly back then. But, you see, this is why I was saying that your efforts and thoughts matter: the fact that you're actively trying to make a change to make me happy is _huge_ for me. It’s a sign that things can and _will_ get better. And I hope you know that I’m willing to change for you too, if anything about me makes you uncomfortable. I'll be honest, in the beginning I really didn't think this relationship could last long, but... now I can _see_ it. I can see it becoming a very, _very_ special thing. Because _you_ are special, Zim" she smiled sweetly at him and caressed his right cheek with her hand.

"I know how hard this period has been on you. I mean, I can only imagine what _stress_ your job and your mission are putting you under. And I know you miss your little robot, Gir, and I know you feel _responsible_ for him"

His heart thudded at those words. He didn’t expect her at all to mention that stuff.

"Yet, despite all these worries you still find the time to worry about me and to try and make me happy. No one has ever done that form me! I- I think that's simply amazing. _You're_ amazing. You're a very strong, and sweet, and brave person. And you don't _need_ to act like something you're not, or to give me presents to prove it to me- I already _know_ it. I like _you_ for _you,_ Zim. And I'm very, very proud of you”.

Zim stared at her, mouth agape, unable to articulate one single word.

Maybe it was because he couldn't remember anyone ever articulating that explicitly how amazing he was, or how proud they were of him. Maybe it was because she'd guessed what was eating at his mind so perfectly without him even mentioning it. Maybe it was because she'd brought up Gir. Or maybe a combination of two or more of these things. Whatever the causes were, the reaction that followed her speech was _devastatingly awful._

The back of his throat swelled, his lip trembled, his face frowned and his eyes watered. He tried to stop it before the human could notice, but it was too fast; by the time he tried to stiffen his face, tears were already dampening his cheek.

The human widened her eyes in shock and drew back her hands.

"Zim, are- are you cr-"

‘ _I'm not crying!’_ he tried to yell, but his voice came out all shrill and trembling, making it sound more like a:

_"I'w nwot cwying!"_

Worse than that, opening his mouth paved the way for a series of ugly sobs to erupt from his throat.

"Ah- uh- oh, no no no, baby, don't cry!” the human panicked, “Did- did I say something wrong? Was something I said _offensive?_ I'm-" she tried to place her hands on his shoulders, but he slapped them away.

 _"I donno_ _ooww_ _w!!_ " he managed to shout between the sobbing.

"Y' dwid this! YOU tell m!... m!... me- eee!!!" he wanted to add more, but at this point his throat was spasming like someone was electrocuting it.

He slammed his face into his cupped hands, and turned away from her.

 _"Don' look a'me!_ " he screamed into his palms the muffled, barely intelligible phrase. He could only imagine how _ugly and pathetic_ he must have looked at that moment.

 _Please, please, let an asteroid fall on my head! …_ _and on everyone else too, possibly!_ _,_ he prayed.

"Zim-"

 _"Cwose your eyes!_ " he shrilled.

"Okay! Okay. They are _closed_ now, I promise"

Zim slowly turned around. He peeked between his fingers: the human really _had_ closed her eyes.

He turned back again, trying to dry his face, but to no avail: every time he removed the tears, new ones came in and substituted them.

 _"There'_ _s_ _\- there's_ " he sniffed and sobbed, " _s-_ _s_ _omething..._ _w-_ _wrong with me, o... otherwise, this_ _w-_ _wouldn't_ _k-_ _keep_ _ha-_ _happening!"_

"Crying?" the human asked.

"NO! E... every time I..." his voice shrunk to a little, acute shrill.

The sobbing was so strong, he couldn’t talk anymore, and his eyes were so full of _water,_ even his enhanced vision was severely impaired.

The human fumbled against his body with her arm, eyes still closed, and gently patted his shoulder when he found it, encouraging him to continue.

Slowly, he finally regained the composure necessary to talk again:

 _"A-all I do i-is w-wrong, it's... u-unf-fair..."_ he swallowed a big lump that had formed in his throat, _"I try so hard, but... b-but…_ _ugh!_ _"_ his whole head overflowing with tears, and now even sniffing wasn’t enough to keep it from leaking from his nose. He tried his best to wipe himself with his hands, and was extremely thankful that the human had taken the whole ‘keep your eyes closed’ thing so seriously.

 _"I_ _k-_ _keep f-failing. I-I f-failed my Tallest. I can't even bring them one stupid planet! What kind of Invader loses a planet?! A-and, and-"_ his voice got quieter, _"I failed my minions too! Gir, that... insane... stupid... little... robot._ _W_ _hat would he say_ _of me_ _if he could think?!_ _He would be right to_ _hate me!_ _A-a_ _nd Minimoose... oh I’m sure he must hate me..."_

"I-I even failed you, human..."

"Oh, Zim, don't be like that! That's not true at all!”

 _"Yes I did! Don't LIE to me!"_ he yelled, _"I know you don't really want an ally! I know it's not_ _a mere squintz_ _that you want from me!_ _But I can’t give you what you want!_ _I-I can’t even bring myself to admit that I like you!! I can’t give anyone what they want!_ _I-I..."_

“ _I’m the worst”_ he whispered in a trembling voice.

The human went quiet for a moment. Then, she spoke, quiet and collected:

“Zim. I told you it’s okay by me. You’re more than enough for me as you are. I don’t care what you call us, or your feelings. All that matters” she raised her hands to cup his tear-stained cheeks, “is that we are together”.

He stared back at her, sniffing. With that sweet, calm expression on her face, dimly illuminated by the market’s lights under them, she just… looked so _beautiful._

"I know it's not the same thing, but... I know what it's like to... disappoint the people you look up to" she continued.

"... you do?"

"Yeah. And it sucks. It really does, but it _happens._ I know it seems terrible now, but it's not the end of the world. It doesn't mean you're worthless. Nobody is perfect"

"But I am an Irken Invader! I am ZiM! I am SUPPOSED to be perfect! If I'm not, I- I-"

"No, Zim." she shook her head, "I'm sorry, but that's just not true. No one can always be on top. Not me, not you, and not even the Irken Empire. I think that deep down you know that. It's just _impossible._ And if somebody expects that of you, well... they're just _wrong_ and you shouldn't listen to them"

Under any other circumstances he would have contradicted her, and yet… he could just _feel_ that her words were true.

"B-But-"

"BUT, that doesn't mean you can't still be amazing. You really _are_ amazing. Look at it this way, you managed to make a whole planet disappear all on your own. Isn't _that i_ mpressive?"

"Well.... yeah, but-"

"Yes, you've made a mistake. But I also believe you're amazing enough to remedy it. And I'll be together with you while you do it", and then she smirked, "Come on, you really believe anything or anyone would be able to stop us two if we work together?"

"… no…" he had to admit.

"That's why people stick together in the first place. You can't _always_ be strong. But whenever that happens, _I'll_ be there to be strong _for you",_ she neared her face to his, "Because _I want you_. With whatever package you come in. Squintz-alliance and all”

He stared at her, her calming voice soothing him. Finally, his chest’s movements settled in a normal pace.

"Are you sure?"

 _"Very"_ she whispered. "Can I look at you now, Zim?"

"… yeah..." he murmured.

Slowly, she opened her eyes, and looked at him. Using her thumbs. she wiped his eyes and cheeks from the tears.

He grabbed her wrists and weakly tried to push them back.

_"Don’t do that..."_

"Why?"

 _"It’s dirty..."_ he sobbed.

"It’s not" she leaned in and kissed him gently on the cheek.

Her kiss only made him sob even harder.

_"I’m pathetic..."_

"You’re not"

She gently pulled him towards her in her embrace, one hand around his waist, the other she placed on top of his head, petting him.

He snuggled in her chest, keeping his face to one side, careful not to dirty her with his face-water.

 _"When the Tallest find out what I did they’ll kill me!"_ he sobbed.

"I won’t let anyone kill you" she tightened her grip on his back, "and they wont find out anyway. And I’m sure your robots are doing just fine. Uh-is ‘Minimoose’ a robot too?"

"Sort of" Zim nodded. _"I-I…_ _I want my b-base back!_ _It’s so…._ _l-lonely_ _without them"_

"Soon you'll be together again"she reassured him.

"... you really won’t leave me, Driver? You don’t hate me?"

"I won’t. And I don’t. _I promise"_

He lifted his head up at her. He had always been taught that affection and closeness were weak- yet the Driver human seemed so, so infinitely strong, with her sweet eyes and her gentle hug. He didn’t have any trouble believing that with her by his side, anything could become possible.

"You wanna kiss me?" She asked after a while of them staring.

"... Can I?"

"Of course"

Zim hesitantly neared his face to her. He cupped her face under her cheeks. Then, he kissed her lips. He moved his hands to behind her head, feeling her soft hair, and she scratched at her nape like she did with him.

When he realized that actually, that way he was probably smearing all his slimy, teary liquids on her face, he drew back his face. Driver wasn’t disgusted at all, though: she gently smiled at him, and took one of his hands in hers.

"Feel here", she guided it to her chest’s left part. Under her skin, he could feel her heart beating hard.

"See? This is all you. You do make me feel incredible, Zim. You are so, so good at this. So stop worrying about it. If this is the ‘squintz’ you told me about, I want a lifetime subscription of it” she smirked.

Zim blushed. He lowered his head down, and mumbled:

"You're incredible, Driver"

_"Uh-what?!"_

"You are incredible” he repeated, “I always thought you were. From the first moment I saw you"

"Awwww!!!", the human closed him in her tightest hug yet. "Oh, Zim, that’s the sweetest thing you’ve ever said to me!"

"… are you… happy?" he asked.

"Only if you are!"

He chuckled to himself, wiping away his last tears. At last, he didn’t feel like crying anymore.

"Heh… you know, I’m glad you don’t really wanna use any of that stuff” he said, looking at the horrible presents still laying beside them, “It’s so gross"

"Hahaha!" the human laughed "That’s okay, though. Some of your efforts really paid off. I really loved the breakfast, and in another context, telling everybody to bow down for me would’ve been _very_ hot"

"Hah, well... everybody loves bow- Oh NO!" his head shot up, nearly smacking her in the chin.

“What?! What’s wrong?!”

“The last present, human!” he shouted, in panic, “I forgot to detonate it! It’s about to go off!”

“‘Detonate’?!” she yelled back.

“It’s too late now...” he covered his eyes again with his palms, ready to withstand this one last (hopefully) humiliation for the day, “Please, don’t look at it!”

“Don’t look at _what-”_

With a deafening detonation, a massive bomb exploded right in the middle of the market under them, with a pink, fiery fire. The flames rose up to the sky, and from them erupted a series of fireworks: they exploded in the night sky, in a myriad of pink, red and white hearts.

Driver observed the whole scene attentively, completely astounded and entranced.

“Oh my God, Zim. That’s so _cheesy”_

“ _Uuuuuuguhhhhhhhh”_ he screamed into his palm.

“But it’s also beautiful. Very, very beautiful. Look at it”

Zim slowly looked at his own creation through his parted fingers. Above, in the dark sky, the heart fireworks were still exploding. Underneath, several buildings _and_ people had caught on fire, their terrified screams traveling through the air.

Very, very beautiful indeed.

“You, uh… you liked it?” he smiled hopefully at her.

Driver leaned back in and kissed him on his lips.

“ _I loved it._ It was _perfect”,_ she smiled.

In a surge of pure, unadulterated squinzt, he threw himself at her and hugged her tight. He felt so secure, holding her and being held by her. He almost wished he could always stay like that.

“Er- you… you won’t tell anyone about what happened on this carpballoon, will you?”

“My mouth is sealed” she reassured him patting on his PAK. “Hey, did the stand of the guy who sold you this crap catch on fire?”

“Hmmmm” Zim leaned over the edge to check. “I don’t think so”

“Well, then. I’ve got an idea for what we’ll be doing tonight” she smirked, “Ever heard of molotovs?”

“No, but they do sound fun!” Zim smirked.

“They are!” she nodded enthusiastically, “Ahhh, but… I’m feeling a bit hungry. How about we grab dinner first? How do you get this thing to land?”

“Heh! Er…” he looked at her with widened eyes, realizing he’d forgotten a _very_ important detail in his plan.

“Get this thing to _what_ now?”


	17. Common Enemies (Part 1)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Driver and Zim's journey is interrupted by a group of people who would really like to see them dead. But wait, haven't we already seen a couple of them?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Better late than never, I say. Hehe.

“Use _Twineedle!”_ Zim urged her.

“You got it” Driver obediently selected the attack.

Their Beedrill launched the attack on the enemy Druddigon, dealing three strikes; yet despite its health bar being already in the red, they weren’t enough to exhaust it.

“If he kills us now it’s _over”_ Zim anxiously tugged at her arm.

“He won’t! … I hope” Driver weakly reassured him.

The Druddigon launched its devastating counterattack, lowering their poor Beedrill’s health down to a red dot.

Driver and Zim held their breath in anticipation, both bent down to stare at her DS console’s screen: now came the moment of truth.

As the turn ended, the Druddigon lost what little remained of its health to the additional damage inflicted by its poison status, and finally fell with one last, pained gasp.

 _“_ _YES!”_ they cheered in unison, both jumping on their seats with excitement.

“In your face, League!” Driver gloated.

“BOW BEFORE YOUR NEW CHAMPIONS, YOU PATHETIC WORMS!” Zim screeched as loudly as possible, sending tiny droplets of saliva on the screen, and honestly? She couldn’t really blame him. They’d been trying to win against the damn League for two hours now, repeatedly forced to readjust their strategy each time their entire team was wiped out. And as it turns out, a Pokémon team can be wiped out _lots_ of times in only two hours.

“Another crushing victory for this formidable duo” Driver lifted up a hand in front of Zim.

He hesitated for a moment; then, he gently hit her palm with his own, like he was afraid to hurt her: Zim always seemed unsure of the strength he was supposed to employ when touching her, but lately he’d resolved to learn at least _some_ of her ‘Human Touch Rituals’, as he called them; and playing games together had been the perfect opportunity to teach him how to high five.

Driver smiled and slightly nodded at him, as if to say, ‘Not bad!’, and Zim kept on going with his gloating:

“We smote them like vermin! I should’ve know, the secret to winning the Championship always lay in the _poisonous_ properties of the _bees!”_

“Bees are very powerful” Driver agreed, “I don’t care what anyone says. Bug types are _great._ I wish _my_ bees would attack my enemies on command...”

“Me too” Zim sighed in a regretful, melancholic tone, “Believed me, I’ve tried...”

Driver skipped the winning speech by pressing down the A button, and immediately saved the game: had they had to go through all that hell again, she would have probably just thrown the console into open space.

“Wanna keep playing? We can go on and complete the Pokédex now”

“Ehhh...” Zim made a bored noise. “I don’t know. I think I’ve had my fill of Poké-monsters for today”

“Yeah... same” Driver nodded; she turned off the DS, closed it and placed it back in its drawer.

“What do we do now, human?” Zim asked.

“Well… we need to buy some supplies. There’s a few inhabited planets ahead on the way where we can go. But otherwise, nothing much”

“I meant now _now”_ Zim precised, “Do you have any other games?”

“Oh… uhhh… there’s… _Space Spider_ on the computer. We can take turns at it?”

“Never mind” he sighed as he sunk in his chair with a bored huff, crossing his arms in his lap.

It’d been three or four since the ‘market day’, and they were finally on the way to the laboratory Mister Krassmann had indicated to them; but despite their progress, their days had actually become pretty dull: aside from the Space Diner they occasionally ate lunch or breakfast at, they were always stuck inside her spaceship. To make the time pass, they’d started playing games, either the ones available on the ship’s built-in computer, or the ‘manual’ ones, like rock-paper-scissors, or Pokémon, the only game she’d brought for her Nintendo DS. And on top of that, of course, they chatted and made out, same old same old. But now, even all that was getting _dull. Everything_ seemed duller, when you were stuck in a small, enclosed space like that.

She lazily tapped her fingers on the seat’s armrest and looked over at Zim, slouching on his seat to her left, looking all bored and absolutely _adorable,_ with his antennae low and his eyes half open.

Now that she thought about it… there was _one_ fun activity they could engage in.

She crossed her legs, trying to assume a relaxed and sensual at once pose, with her left side rested on the chair, and her right arm rested on her thigh’s side.

Living in close contact with him for days like that, she was finding it increasingly difficult to… to be perfectly blunt, _restrain herself_ from literally _jumping_ on him.

Yet, she held back: the only time she and Zim had engaged in something that could _kind of count_ as sex, was on that first night, when she’d groped him on her bed, both completely drunk out of their mind, and his reaction to that had been a very confused expression coupled with the question: _‘What are you doing?’_

Truth was, she still felt kind of like _creepo_ for forcing herself on him like that.

After that, they had never talked about sex again, and Zim clearly had a very complicated relationship with _anything_ intimate: when he kissed and touched her, he looked pretty aroused and up for it, yet every time she tried to go further than simple kissing he stopped her, looking all flustered and overwhelmed and confused.

The last thing she wanted was to make him uncomfortable again and risk turning their relationship sour again, just now that it was beginning to really take off.

 _You're making such a fuss over such a non-issue,_ a voice within her spoke up. _You never signed a chastity contract. He can’t literally not know what sex is. You're in a relationship now, and you're both adults, so stop being so awkward and just tell him, directly: ‘I wanna have sex with you’._

Heart pounding, she gulped down her shyness. What did she have to lose anyway? This was gonna come up anyway sooner or later.

“You know… uhm” she cleared her throat, “there's a bed in the back of the ship” she tried, gesturing towards her room in the back of her ship: before she did ask directly, she wanted to at least set up the _mood._

Zim didn’t even bother looking at her. He kept staring in front of him, fiddling with his fingers.

"Yeah, I know that" he mumbled.

"I know that you know that" she smirked.

Zim slightly turned his head towards her.

"... okay?" he said in a confused voice.

"... sooo... wanna try it... _together?"_ she asked in a sensual voice.

"You know I don't sleep, Driver"

 _… breathe in, Driver. Let’s try this again,_ she told herself. Irkens didn’t need to sleep. Ergo, they didn't need beds. So probably that was why ‘bed’ and ‘sex’ didn’t correlate in his mind.

"Oh, I _wouldn't_ let you sleep" she winked at him.

“… why not?” he asked, looking even more confused.

 _“Becaaaause”_ she lifted an arm and tickled his shoulder, “what I’m going to do is going to keep your attention _aaall on me”_

He perplexedly looked at her finger, then back at her face.

“Is that a _threat?_ Are you gonna trick me into playing that dumb ‘don’t look at my fingers forming a circle’ thing again?”

_… Okay. Quick, now. Find a way to make this sexy!_

“Oh” she smirked. She formed a circle with her index finger and thumb in front of him, “you mean like this?” she wiggled her eyebrows, as she lowered and raised her hand up and down in the air.

"... is the boredom melting your brain, woman?" he asked in a genuinely concerned voice, “Maybe you really should lie down and sleep for a while”

"… alright. Let’s change _approach"_ she mumbled under her breath, readjusting herself on her chair.

"Hey, Zim" she called him.

He lifted his head up, and she patted her hands on her thighs:

"Come here" she invited him.

He lifted a brow up.

"Come... there?"

"Yeah, sit here!" she nodded.

_"... why?"_

"I wanna cuddle with you" she smiled, speaking in a cute, sweet voice:

"... 'cuddle'?" he slowly repeated.

"Uh… you know what that is, right? It’s-"

"Of course I do!” he interrupted her. “But that’s hardly a fun activity, and more of a... _ritualistic display of affection"._

_Where the HELL does he get those definitions from, oh my God..._

"Awww, come on, Zim” she whined. She extended a hand and tickled the tip of his antenna, which twitched back instinctively. “Don’t you wanna cuddle with me? With your _partner?"_

He flinched, blushing, already embarrassed by that simple gesture. He put a finger under his chin, like he was pondering on a serious, difficult question.

"Couples... _cuddle,_ don’t they?" he said in a thoughtful tone.

"Heh... yeah, uhm…" her voiced switched back to a normal one: already she was worried she was coercing him into something he didn't want.

"Look, it’s okay. We don’t have to do it if you're not-"

Zim’s right arm shot up on her shoulder, in a gesture that meant: _‘Stop that’._

"ZiM can do it!" he reassured, a look of determination on his face. "It’s not too different from the making-out, no?"

Before she could retort, he used the armrest of his seat as leverage and jumped over, landing with his rear on her legs.

“It’s not about what you _can_ do, Zim. It’s about what you _want_ to do” she explained.

"If you think you could ever force ZiM to do _anything_ he _doesn’t_ want, you’re sorely mistaken, woman” he cut her off in an authoritative voice, back straightened and arms on his chest in a headstrong pose.

She stared at him from behind, amazed at his unusual... _compliance._ In the past few days he had indeed made significant efforts at being closer to her, but the difference with his past self was so stark, that that still took her aback quite a lot.

Then, Zim turned his face to look at her, looking way more unsure than just a moment before.

"Uhm... do I have to, uh-" his hands moved up and down in a series of uncertain, awkward gestures.

"Oh, no! No, no. Just relax" she reassured him.

Her hands raised to cup his cheeks, and she kissed the top of his head.

Zim shuddered, his antennae twitching.

"Leave this to me" she whispered; with one hand, she gently guided his chin to the right and kissed his cheek. Her other arm moved around his waist to close him in a hug.

Sitting on her like that, she could feel his body so clearly: it was light, and soft, and pleasantly warm against her skin. Not much different than having Cat on her lap, to be honest. Only he was much, much stiffer than her relaxed pet cat.

"You’re always so _tense"_ she commented. She crossed her arms around him, and affectionately stroked his own. "Do I make you uncomfortable, Zim?"

"N-no. No, of course not!" he remarked, trying to sound more secure than he actually was. "I’m just… unused to this" he explained.

"Hmmm" she hummed, planting another kiss on his head.

She uncrossed her arms and put her hands on his shoulders.

"Have you ever been massaged?" she asked him.

"Not… really"

“Can I try? I think you’d like it” she proposed, circling her palms against his shoulders.

“Okay...” Zim nodded, his body shivering at that new type of touch.

She moved her hands under his shoulder blades, pushing her palms and drawing circles on his back; Zim arched his back, following her movements, his body finally loosening under her touch.

"Do you like it?"

"Uhm" he hummed.

"No?"

"No, I do! I do... like this", and for once he really sounded relaxed despite their closeness.

It was so weird, seeing Zim being so calm, and… loving, in his own shy, awkward way. And above all honest, not trying to hide his true feelings towards her anymore.

Driver smiled at him from behind: finally, for the first time in her life, she felt like she was in an actual relationship. She’d sometimes fancied what it would be like to be in one, without ever fully believing someone like that could ever have a normal (as normal as Zim was) boyfriend, and truly… this was very, very nice. _Much_ nicer than she’d ever imagined. Is that what other people- what other humans felt like, living their normal mundane lives with their partners, back on Earth? No lies, no monies, no heists involved? Just pure, genuine, honest affection for another person?

Her chest warmed up with a happy, loving feeling for the little alien in her lap, and her urge to be closer to him suddenly grew.

Holding him back by one shoulder, she pushed his lower back forward; she heard a crack coming from his spine, and he hummed again, a bit louder this time.

"Did that hurt?" she asked.

"No, it’s... _nice_ " he smiled "You’re very good at this"

"You shouldn't sit on a chair all day, Zim. It’s not good for your spine"

"What should I do?" he asked in a playfully sarcastic voice, "Take a walk out your ship?"

"Well” she chuckled, “You could come lie on my bed some time"

Again, she lifted his chin up to make him look at her. She stroked his cheek, and smiled.

"I think there would be room for the _both of us"_ she whispered, mouth very close to his own.

Zim returned her smile, and he stretched his neck up, recognizing her cue to kiss her.

As their mouths met, her right hand trailed down his arm to hold his own; he returned the gesture, squeezing her back. Meanwhile, her left hand moved from his cheek to scratch that point in his nape that he liked so much; and sure enough, his body shuddered at that pleasant touch.

She shifted her legs to allow him a better angle; Zim also adjusted his own, balancing himself as they kissed and sucked and nibbled on each other’s lips, the wet, sweet sounds resulting from their movements exciting her more and more.

Then, Driver did something they hadn't tried in days: she sneaked her tongue inside his mouth, and rubbed the tip on his palate. Another, stronger shiver ran through his body. His hand twitched in her own, and his legs pressed together. But he didn't fight against that gesture. Instead, she felt his tongue curl around hers; it was at least twice the length of hers, and much stronger: he pushed it up, his unnaturally long tongue swirling inside her on mouth- well, ‘unnatural’ for a human. But really, who even needed a _human_ man anymore when she could have _this?_

At this point, the itch between her legs had gotten _torturous._ If there was ever a right moment to escalate with him, it was _this._

Her left hand shifted it from his nape to his chest: as she stroked it, she felt his heart pounding hard inside his body.

She drew her tongue back; both their lips were pleasantly damp with saliva (who knows whose exactly?); his breath was heavy and ragged.

"You having fun yet?" she whispered, smirking against his mouth.

"Er, uh- uh-" he stammered, panting. "Y... yes?" he tried answering, his voice reduced to a quiet, shy squeal.

Her grin deepened.

_"Me too"_

Driver pushed their mouths back together, shoving her tongue back inside his mouth; the hand on his nape rose on the top of his head to gently bend it backwards and keep him in place as she kissed him.

Her right hand trailed down from his chest: she stroked his right thigh, and spread his legs apart.

 _"Nnngh"_ a silent moan escaped his throat and into her mouth.

With one last nibble on his lower lip, she left his mouth to kiss and gently suck on his chin, using the grip on his head to keep it tilted back.

Zim breathed in and panted, grasping for breath.

"D-Driver" he moaned her name, sending her arousal up to an all time high.

She trailed down to his neck, and kissed it.

Zim’s whole body involuntarily contracted all at once, a silent gasp escaping his lips.

"Ho-hold up- _uhn"_ his hand grabbed the wrist of the hand on his thigh, and she felt him closing his legs together.

Her hand promptly opposed that gesture, pushing his legs back open, and she gently bit down on his neck.

“ _Hyah!_ ” Zim emitted a choked squeal, squirming and shivering at that new, intense sensation.

Then, all of a sudden, she heard a

_Beep_

sound coming from the radar on her ship. She knew it very well, and immediately recognized it as the signal that an object of considerable size (probably a ship) was within 100 meters.

Never mind it. Probably some tourists, she dismissed it.

She gently sucked on that bit of skin that she’d just bitten, and she resumed stroking his thigh.

_Beep_

The 50 meters signal.

 _It’s probably nothing. This is a trafficked route,_ she reasoned.

Zim contorted, his breath becoming even more irregular; he was trying really hard to resist his body’s contractions, she could tell.

 _“D-Driver, be gentler...”_ he managed to push out of his trembling lips.

_Beep_

30 meters.

She placed a gentle kiss on that place, as a way to apologize for her roughness. Then, her hand slowly trailed up his thigh, until it reached-

_BOOM._

Something loudly hit the back of the ship, causing the whole thing to shake, making them both jump in their seat.

Driver’s heart skipped a beat, startled at that loud sound, her head instinctively shooting up from Zim’s neck. Zim too had the same reaction, and they both looked behind them at the source of the sound.

Then, a red light turned on on the panel control, accompanied by a beeping; on the windshield-screen, the stylized image of the ship appeared, with a red dot flashing in a point of its stern.

Her heart thudded in alarm: something had just _breached_ the ship.

Zim straightened on her lap, looking between the back of the ship and the image on the windshield, grasping her shirt tight with both hands.

"WHAT?! What's going on?!" he exclaimed.

"Uh..."

"Driver!" he turned to her, "Someone shot the ship! It must be that ship on the radar!"

She looked down at the radar, a green dot indicating the presence of another vehicle behind theirs.

"... so it seems" she agreed.

They stared at each other for a moment.

"Well?!" he impatiently urged her, _"Do something!"_

She looked with immense, pained hesitation at her hand still resting on his thigh.

_"... right now?"_

_"Of course right now, are you MAD?!"_ Zim scrambled out of her lap to press a button on the panel control, activate one of the rear cameras of the ship.

In the bottom corner of the windshield appeared an image of the space behind them; there it was: a golden-colored ship was hovering just behind hem.

"Who are they?! Why did they hit us?!" he asked.

Driver stared at the ship, full of rage against the unknown disturbers.

She didn’t exactly know who they were, but already had an _idea_ of who they might be.

But why right now of all times? Of all the moments it could have happened! Couldn’t it have waited for another… _three, four hours?_

She rolled her eyes, huffing with annoyance, grabbed Zim by the edge of his collar and deposited back him on his seat.

“Ship!” she loudly commanded, “Activate defense shield!”

A blue light turned on on the panel control to signal that the invisible defensive force field had activated around the ship; then, she deactivated the autopilot option and pushed the accelerator lever all the way down.

The engines produced a loud rumble, and the ship abruptly changed pace, launching itself forward and away from the attackers, so quickly that Driver’s and Zim’s back were pressed back against their seats. The whole structure around them, too, trembled at that sudden acceleration.

The enemy ship, too, hastened its pace, a blue flame coming out its propellers, but this time maintaining a considerable distance between them.

“Now they’re following us?!” Zim exclaimed, bewildered.

“Ship, what’s the damage on the stern?” Driver asked the ship.

“Analyzing. Stern section. Level 1 breach located. Damage report: minimal” the AI answered in a mechanical, female voice.

“Ha!” Zim scoffed, “Is that the most damage their little ship can do?! _Pathetic!”_

“That was probably just a warning shot” Driver noted. “That ship looks dangerous, and much stronger than mine. They could have done some serious damage if they wanted to. I think they’re trying to catch me alive. Or to show off. Or both. It’s weird, though, that they’re not trying to fire at all anym-”

Just as she was saying that, the golden ship in the monitor fired two red lasers at them from the firers on its top; fortunately, they dissipated as soon as they touched the force field.

“Woah, okay. Never mind. Hold on tight” Driver sharply steered the ship to the left, avoiding another couple of shots.

“‘Catch you’?” Zim confusedly repeated, hands on the armrests to balance himself. “Driver, what’s going on?! Who ARE those people?! Do you _know_ them?!”

“They must be bounty hunters, coming after me” she explained.

“Bounty hunters?! After you?! _Why?!”_

“Why?” she scoffed, “Oh, geez, Zim. Where do I even begin? You want the list by year or by galaxy?"

She accelerated again, and the enemy ship followed suit, firing those red lasers again.

"Ahhh, the hell" she grumbled, "How the hell did they trace me back?!"

The golden ship steered even more to the left and shot again, forcing her to change route. The force field was holding up good against those lasers, but it wasn’t going to last forever: that was probably their end goal, trying to wear their defenses down until they’d be forced to surrender against their better-equipped ship.

"Driver, do something! Shoot them back!"

"At this angle?"

"What else do you wanna do?!"

"Aye aye, captain" she rolled her eyes. "Ship, lock on the missile launchers on the enemy ship and shoot them".

The ship’s AI obeyed, the missile launchers positioning themselves; two missiles shot at their opponents, hitting their own defense field: the missiles exploded a few feet away from the ship’s surface, without producing any significant damage.

"There, I wasted two missiles. Happy now?"

"Don’t you have anything stronger to hit them with?!" Zim anxiously asked.

“We have no chance of winning against that ship” she bluntly stated.

"Ship, check for nearby planets. Ones with lots of people on ‘em, possibly” she then turned to her ship.

The enemy ship shot at them again, firing a stronger laser: as its energy bar on the monitor indicated, the defense field was now at half its capacity.

"That's it, I'm taking the Voot Cruiser! We'll take them, two on one! Let’s see how they fare against Irken technology, instead of… this… _whatever_ technology!" Zim tried to jump out his seat, but she held him back by the shoulder.

"NO" she admonished him, "Stop being so anxious. I have everything under control".

"Oh, do you?! Doesn’t look like it to me!" Zim pouted.

Suddenly, the list of the nearby, highly-populated planets appeared on the screen in front of them: there were three in total.

“Display course for the closest one” she ordered, without even checking for its name.

The ship obeyed, displaying a rudimentary map with the course traced in red on it. How lucky for them: the planet was just at a fifteen-minute flight from there, to the starboard side.

Drive hastily steered the ship in that direction, managing to evade another attack from the enemy.

“We’re not going to engage in combat. This is a _criminal’s_ ship. It’s made to _run_ from the law, not _fight_ it” she explained to Zim.

The enemy ship pursued them, but stopped with its attacks. Soon, she understood why: the ships built-in communicator started ringing.

"Are they calling us now? _After_ they shot us?!" Zim exclaimed.

“Yeah. _Rude...”_ Driver nodded in agreement.

She hesitated for a moment. Then, she pressed down a button, accepting the call.

On the screen appeared the text: INCOMING CALL by [Mysterious Justice Bringers].

“Pfff, hahaha!” she couldn’t help but burst out in laughter, “Who came up with that name? _A child?!”_

“We should blow them up for that name alone” Zim agreed, voice full of scorn.

The communicator finally stopped ringing as the lines connected.

Then, a deep, grave, robotic voice rumbled from the speakers:

_"Cease and surrender. I know who you are and who you're traveling with, Earth woman. You can't outrun me"._

Driver’s mocking smile fell, a look of shock and confusion replacing it. Had he just called her ‘Earth woman’? He knew what Earth was? And he knew Zim was with her?

_What the HELL was going on?!_

Overcoming the initial surprise, she frowned in anger at that arrogant voice: she wasn’t going to cave in the threats of a coward that had had to sneak up on her to even challenge her.

She picked the communicator embedded in the panel control up, pressed the button on it and spoke her answer:

 _"Blow me"_ she simply growled, and with that she slammed the communicator back into its place.

"Don't encourage them!" Zim reprimanded her.

Driver went directly against their orders and pushed the ship forward even faster.

The enemy ship pursued them, this time coming much closer to them: evidently, her defiant reply had worn out their patience.

They resumed with their shooting; she avoided one shot, but the other managed to hit their shield: two or three more blows and it would have been out.

"Well, what do we do now?!" Zim asked, even more panicked than before.

“What we were doing before: we’re going to lose ‘em. Put on your seat belt, will you? It’s gonna get a bit _intense"_

Driver quickly strapped herself, and Zim followed her. Another laser fired at them, further weakening the defense shield.

“Are you sure you don’t want me to take the Voot Cruiser?!” Zim tugged at her sleeve.

Driver didn’t pay him attention, though: the enemy ship was gaining ground (space?) behind them; the long, metal rostrum on protruding from its prow started flashing of a white light: they were probably going to try and breach their stern, hooking their ship to theirs.

 _That’s actually a cool trick,_ she pondered. _If I ever become a pirate, I’ll definitely use it._

“Hey, Zim. Wanna see something _cool?”_ she smirked at him.

Zim’s antennae perked up in curiosity as she pressed a series of keys on the panel control.

“It’s a one-time trick, so let’s hope it works”

“A ‘trick’? What- ah!” he gasped in fear as he noticed the enemy being a mere 1000 feet from them again.

To be honest, that sight was making her anxious too; it was unavoidable, though: she needed to lure them in enough for them to turn off their defensive shield, or this would have never worked.

 _“Waaaait for it...”_ Driver positioned her hands in the right places for the Escape Maneuver.

The enemy fired another laser at them, and it completely shattered the force field. Their flashing rostrum threateningly approached their ship, about to pierce it.

_Now._

Her left hand pushed a button: a plate on her ship’s stern opened up, releasing a big mass of _black goo_ into space that hit and stuck to the entirety of the enemy ship’s rostrum and its windshield.

With her other hand, Driver pulled a small lever on the panel control, activating the Radar Disruptor.

Then, finally, she pushed the lever to the right of her seat, thus throwing the ship in a hyperspace jump.

The stars around them became horizontal flashes of lights, as they sped through space towards the planet the ship had suggested.

“Goo? GOO? THAT’S your trick?!” Zim exclaimed, astounded.

“Works every time” she nodded proudly, “I suggested installing it. I call it… _the ‘Squid Escape Maneuver’”_

“That’s so _stupid!_ … and _genius!”_ Zim held his temples as though his mind had just been blown, “Why doesn’t anyone else use it?!”

“For the same reason it works: it’s _unexpected._ And aliens usually lack imagination” she smugly smirked.

“Plus, with the Radar Disruptor I activated, I doubt they’re gonna be able to figure out where we went- _oh”_ she tried going on with her explanation, but something unexpected happened: the ship started stumbling and losing velocity, until the hyperspace jump interrupted much earlier than its usual duration.

Now that was… _weird._

Still, not a big problem, she guessed. The planet they were set on reaching was right in front of them anyway: it was of a bright orange color, and it had three moons.

"Ship, try locking in with the local satellites" Driver ordered.

But, no response came from the ship.

"Ship?" she called. “Hey? Ship?!” she impatiently hit the panel with a fist.

Still nothing.

"Crap. Is the mic broken? What happened to the hyperspace? " she asked, turning to Zim.

"What? Are you asking me?” he retorted.

"You’re the engineer here!”

"Ehhh… That first hit must've damaged the AI? Somehow?" he shrugged, seemingly unable to think of a better explanation.

“Well… at any rate, we should probably land. We need to buy supplies and fuel. And goo. And she _clearly_ needs some maintenance...” she affectionately patted the ship’s panel control.

"‘She’? The ship? Why are you calling it a she?"

"All ships are girls, Zim"

 _"... what?!"_ he asked bewildered.

"You heard me. Trust me, I know. Now let's land and check for damage."

The ship stumbled down till it breached the planet’s atmosphere: the city they’d stumbled upon was very crowded, all the buildings in its center as high as skyscrapers; around it was an orange-tinted landscape with smaller, square buildings; it was all in all very similar to an Earthen metropolis, except for the hundreds of flying vehicles hovering around.

Driving flew down among the inhabitants, trying to blend in with the crowd, all the while checking if the enemy was still behind them.

Dishearteningly enough, the ship started malfunctioning more and more as they flew around: first, the cameras shut off. Then, the radar and the GPS. When she tried summoning the weapons, the ship was unresponsive. The AI itself was silent: they were now completely defenseless.

Driver looked around for good place to hide the ship, outside of the city center: she flew them in an a relatively isolated area in the suburb, between a construction site and what seemed to be a scrap yard.

Now even the steering wheel seemed to be having problems, the ship becoming more and more resistant to her commands.

When she finally managed to land, she took the chance to turn the ship off; she tried restarting the program, and when it seemed to be loading normally, she almost believed the problem would be fixed just like that.

But then, the lights on the ship flickered; the windshield’s screen turned to black, the default ‘error loading’ warning on it; the panel control’s lights, too, got set in standby mode, and from then on, no matter how many times she tried to restart the system, the ship became irreversibly and completely inoperable.

“Perfect!” she threw her hands u in frustration, “Just _perfect!_ Now _what?"_

Zim had observed the whole thing very attentively and quietly.

“Let’s check the damage to the stern first” he finally spoke in a serious, pensive voice.

They climbed on the roof of the ship to check the damage that first enemy shot had provoked, but, much to their surprise, it hadn’t been a laser, or a missile that they’d fired at them: there was something _metal_ there, stuck between the broken panels of the ship.

Zim cautiously picked it up with his PAK legs, lifting it up for both of them to examine.

“What is it? An unexploded missile?” she tried guessing.

“It has a rocket motor… but it’s _hollow_ inside” Zim shook his head as he examined it. He raised it up to her face, so that she could see the frontal part, the one that had pierced her ship: it now had a hole in it, through which she could confirm that yes, the inside was completely empty.

“It’s like they emptied a missile… maybe this was a manufacturing error?” with one hand, Zim drew a scanner out of its PAK, pointing it at the empty missile: _‘origin unknown’,_ was the result of the scan.

 _“Garbage”_ he muttered, throwing the thing to the side and down on the ground next to her ship.

“Well, I guess we were pretty lucky that that first shot was a defective one. This hole here, too, will be easy enough to cover. We have some spare panels in the storage, yes? Yet… what does this have to do with the ship’s system malfunctioning?” Zim reflected. “Is the AI interface somehow connected to the exterior?” he asked her.

It probably wasn’t appropriate for the time being, but Zim just looked so _cool_ when he acted so pragmatically, with that serious, confident voice, the trained, knowledgeable soldier part of him coming to light.

Driver blushed, flustered, yet tried her best to keep her cool as she answered his question:

"Not that I know. I’ve been through damage worse than that and the computer always worked fine. The AI interface should be under the panel control, anyway”

"Very well. We'll just have to check in there, then” he nodded, turning back towards the hatch and into the ship.

"Ugh, I can't believe someone dared attacking us! _Together!”_ Zim kept complaining as he climbed down the ladder. “What cowards, attacking us from behind! Hadn't they taken us by surprise, by now they’d be mincemeat, floating in space inside the crumpled carcass of their horrible ship! _Mincemeaaat!"_ he hissed.

"You can say that" Driver echoed, following him. "What can you expect from bounty hunters? They're the most _ignoble creatures_ in the universe! And, uhm…” she then switched to a gentler, apologetic tone: “I'm sorry, though. You have nothing to do with them, yet because you're with me they might have you as a target too..."

"Nonsense!” Zim stomped his foot down, putting his hands on his sides. “You're my human now: if someone has an issue with _you,_ they have an issue with _me"_

"Awww, Zim! That's so sweet of you!" she chirped.

But his reassurance didn't do much to actually quell her sense of guilt: she’d gotten way too comfortable lately, soaring through space like she was another regular citizen.

Now that she thought about it... it was so weird of them, to give up on the hunt that easily: if they were after her specifically, then they knew how many monies were on her.

Besides, the whole incident had raised a bunch of unanswered questions: how had they traced her? How did they even know of the Earth, or that Zim was with there? And most importantly, if they somehow managed to follow them on that planet, could they take on them?

She hadn't much experience teaming up with Zim in combat, but from what she'd gathered, Zim was more of a spy, a surprise attacker, rather than directly confrontational. And as for her, well, her strategy was avoiding any physical confrontation in the first place: they simply lacked the raw power necessary to take someone down in a fight. _Especially_ without her ship. If at least Mister Krassmann was there...

She looked down at Zim, working at her panel control, and smiled. He could potentially go through a lot because of her (well, he _had_ already, thinking back to the _lighthouse incident_ and the _market day),_ and he hadn’t complained even one bit: his first instinct had been instead to simply come and help her.

She wasn’t going to drag him into her own problems any further, she resolved.

"Well, I’m useless here” she declared, “So while you repair the ship I’m gonna go into town and buy supplies and fuel".

"Uh?" Zim turned to ask her, but she’d already gone into her room to gear herself up.

She pulled a suitcase from under her bed, containing her belt with her tools, her cape, and her gravitational boots.

“Wouldn't that be dangerous?” Zim asked her from the other room, “What if those bounty hunters come looking for you? You don't even know this planet, do you?"

 _That’s the whole point,_ she mentally replied.

"Don't worry. My orientation sense is impeccable and so is my fashion style. Check this out!" she came out of her room, arms spread out to give Zim a good look on her new outfit.

As he saw her, Zim’s eyes widened, and his cheeks blushed up.

“Oh. You look very cool, human. But- oooh, wait! Are those _gravity boots?!"_ he suddenly took a leap forward when he noticed what she was wearing.

"Sure are!" she nodded, amused at Zim’s nerdy reaction, knelt down at her feet as he checked her footwear.

"Where did you get these? They're a fancy, advanced kind, too! With automatic mind-reading of the wearer!"

"They were a present of that client for which we stole a bunch of antiques from a museum, if I recall correctly. I don't ‘use em much, though. You got any idea how much it costs to steal their fuel? In any case, with these on and my robbing tools on my belt, I'm gonna be completely safe! Trust me!" she reassured him.

She was about to depart for good, when she suddenly remember one last thing to take, just in case: she looked inside her personal safe, placed in a corner of the cabin, took the object and safely placed it in the back pocket of her pants.

“Are you sure it's safe?” Zim tentatively asked her as he got back on his feet.

"What are you, worried?" she sarcastically asked. “We do need food and fuel, no?”

"Well, uh... I mean..." he looked down at his feet, arms behind his back, embarrassed. "Maybe... _a little?"_

_God, he’s too cute for my poor heart._

"Don't worry. I'll be back soon. I'm used to being on the run. A couple of bounty hunters aren't gonna scare me. And, uh" she squatted down, face to his level, “if anything happens here, leave the ship and run away".

"Nonsense! ZiM doesn’t run!" he protested.

She leaned in, getting real close to his mouth.

"Is it so _hard_ to just listen to your captain for once?" she whispered.

Zim flinched back, blushing at her gesture.

“Well, well...! It… IS when she’s asking me not to _rain doom_ upon my enemies!"

“Think I can’t do that, too, on my own?” she asked him, frowning. She pretended to lean in and kiss him, but just as he tried to reach her lips with his own, she sharply stood up, his puckered lips kissing the air instead.

“There. I owe you a kiss now” she smirked down at him, “Now I _have_ to come back, don’t I?”

Zim looked up at her, looking disgruntled and worried still.

“You do” he mumbled.

She gave him one last smile; then she turned around and exited the ship, venturing on that unknown alien planet.

  
  


Driver had walked all the way from the suburbs to the crowded city center; the natives of that planet were humanoid, bald, with red, orange and yellow skins, much like the landscape that surrounded them. Much to her luck, there were many people from other planets, too, making it easier for her not to arouse suspicion.

So she walked among the crowd, on a street full of stores on every side, in that city that reminded her so much of her own home planet, and it would have been a rather relaxing stroll too, if not for the fact that _she was being stalked._

From the moment she’d left her ship, she’d been constantly checking her back for any possible pursuers -in case they tried sneaking up on her from behind like they’d done with her ship- and when she’d reached the city center she’d immediately spotted two suspect figures.

‘Suspect’ was a very generous compliment, actually; they didn’t even look like they were trying to hide the fact that they were following her: each time she hastened or slowed down her pace, they changed their walking to match hers, and every time she turned around to look at them, they goofily scrambled to hide behind whatever was available on the spot, a person, a car, a tree, the corner of a building.

Even their appearances were ridiculously suspicious: they both wore identical outfits, with sunglasses, long gray coats and matching hats, which screamed: ‘I don’t want to draw information on myself but I could only refer to D tier spy movies to learn how’.

It would have been hilarious, really, if it wasn’t so _pathetic._ And if being followed around was by default _extremely annoying,_ even if done so poorly.

Her patience fully ran out when she turned around and saw them on a bench, reading newspapers. With holes for their eyes in them.

_Okay. Am I being followed by a 90s cartoon?_

She sighed in exasperation, and finally went up to confront them.

"Are you following me?" she bluntly asked them, standing in front of the bench. The passing people, too, occasionally stared at the odd pair, as weirded out by their ridiculous appearance as she was.

The two supposed bounty hunters didn’t respond. They simply kept on pretending to read their newspapers… with _holes_ in them.

"... Hey. I'm talking to you” she impatiently spoke up, “You two in front of me, with the newspapers"

"Hmm?” the smaller, female one to her left sneakily looked at her from behind her newspaper, blatantly trying to make her naturally squeaky voice sound deeper and more masculine, “Are you talking to us, miss?" she asked her.

"Yes, you. You're _following_ me, aren't you?"

The two both sunk deeper into their newspapers.

 _"... noooooo"_ they denied in unison.

Driver narrowed her eyes in anger.

 _"Yes you are”_ she insisted. “You're the _bounty hunters_ from earlier, aren't you?"

"Bounty hunters? Earlier? You must be mistaken” the bigger, male one to her right shook his head. “Please, by all means. _Do go on walking about..."_

"You’re the ones who attacked _my ship!"_ she spoke up again, irritated.

The big guy whispered to his companion, in a way that Driver could perfectly hear them:

"Sasha, I think she's onto us-"

 _"Shhh!"_ ‘Sasha’ urged him to shut it behind her newspaper.

"Ahem” she cleared her throat. “We don't know about no ship, _kind, filthy criminal._ Please, go away. We’re trying to read the _newspaper"_

Driver crossed her arms under her cape.

"You're holding it upside-down, _idiot"_ she spat.

‘Sasha’ seemed to take a moment to check it. Then, she hastily turned it the correct way up.

"Miss” the big one intervened, “I'm sensing a wave of _hostility_ coming from you-"

"Because I'm shoving it right in your faces, you _big moron"_ Driver condescendingly interrupted him.

 _"Watch how you talk to us, you filthy criminal!"_ Sasha crumpled up her newspaper in her lap, baring her sharp teeth at her, using her natural, annoying, high-pitched voice. _"A good-for-nothing delinquent like you has no right to talk to us like that!"_

Driver looked her up and down: she was about as tall as Zim, and possibly as rude and angry as he was, but with all his lovableness and cuteness striped down, with her pointed ears, rat-like face, and insufferably-high voiced.

_Great. I have to deal with an actual, talking chihuahua here._

"Whatever” Driver rolled her eyes. “Look, it's not that important, but please answer me this and spare me the trouble of finding out myself: who are you? Who sent you? Are there others with you?"

The bigger one lowered down his newspaper too, exposing his appearance more clearly to her: he had snow white skin, small ears on either side of his head and a big, muscly, bulky built; his voice was low, gentle, and calm, the exact opposite of his companion.

"Well actually, there's-" he started.

"SHUT UP, DON'T ANSWER!" ‘Sasha’ reprimanded him. "We are the _Implacables,_ criminal! The most feared bounty hunters in the galaxy! And if you don’t want us to take you away by force, you better follow us without question!"

“The Im-what now?” Driver cocked an eyebrow up, “The name on the screen was different” she noted, and for a moment, she feared that she might have been pursued by two different groups of bounty hunters at the same time.

“Actually, uhm” the big one raised his index finger, “we’ve changed our name now. It’s _‘Mysterious Justice Bringers’_ now” he clarified.

“Hahahaha! Oh my GOD! So it’s _true!_ Hahaha!” Driver couldn’t contain her laughter, hearing that name being spoken in such a dead-serious tone.

“A-anyway, hah. I doubt you’d try anything here” she scoffed when she finally caught her breath. “Look around: would you risk hurting all these civilians?"

"Fool! My aim with a gun is _superb!_ ” Sasha threw her fists up at her, “I'd hit you, no collateral victims!"

"Mmmm. What if the police sees us and catches me first?" Driver mused, hand under her chin.

"Good then! _Justice_ will be served!"

"But you won't get the reward, _dumb-dumb"_

 _"Youuuuarrrghghgrhgr!!!”_ Sasha’s voice turned into an angry, frustrated, foamy growl.

"I think we are getting off track here" the big one intervened with his kind, mellow voice. "Look, lady, just give up and it'll be easier for everybody. You're outnumbered. You’re _surrounded._ You just can’t win".

Driver eyed him.

“I never got your name, big boy”

“My name is Thommesedius Halflaprarkt the Thirty-third”

 _“Of course_ it is. Well, Sasha and _Tom,_ I welcome your challenge!” she announced in a theatrical voice, “See if you can catch me! Oh, and heads up. I'm throwing a _smoke bomb_ at you now"

"You're throwing a what-"

Driver picked one of the smoke bombs she was hiding under her cape, pressed a button on it, and threw it on the bench, right between them.

As she turned around to run away, she heard the bomb go off, its dark, purple smoke undoubtedly engulfing the two poor idiots.

The crowd around them screamed and scattered about, facilitating her escape.

 _"Cough! Akh! She's getting away!"_ she heard Sasha screech between her coughing fits.

When she got to a decent distance, she turned to look at the scene: there were people both fleeing and approaching the big smoke cloud.

Eventually, the two bounty hunters emerged from the purple cloud: they’d discarded their ‘disguises’, looking around for her with their guns drawn out.

 _"Move it! Move away, you!"_ Sasha elbowed away the people that tried to help her, while Tom followed her looking confused and mortified.

Finally, Sasha spotted her, looking at them from an alleyway between two buildings on the street’s side, and pointed her to Tom.

Driver smiled and waved and them, disappearing behind the corner.

The two ran and followed her, holding their guns up; they emitted two frustrated gasps as they noticed that the alleyway was a dead end, and that she wasn’t anywhere to be seen.

 _"Where's she gone to?!"_ Sasha growled.

"Ooohhhh no… we lost her…" Tom lamented, “The boss is not going to like this...”

 _"Stop whining and help me find her!"_ she cut him off, “Maybe humans can teleport… they _look_ like they can, no?”

"Or maybe!... she was never there in the first place" he pondered all philosophically.

"SHUT UP! This is all your fault! AGAIN!"

"Please, don’t project your anger onto me. You’ll shorten your lifespan. And you’ll already live only two hundred years"

“AAAAARGHGHGGHRHG!” Sasha eloquently retorted.

Meanwhile, Driver watched everything from one of the side buildings, the gravity boots allowing her to attach herself to stand on the wall like it was a floor. She chuckled, listening to their silly bickering. Not even trying to look up? Rookie mistake. They were almost too adorable to take out. How did could she ever think they’d be a threat, again?

Driver held out her foot, changing the gravity center from the wall to the planet again; then, she adjusted the gravity acceleration to ‘low’: that allowed to comfortably float down behind their backs, still bickering with each other.

As her feet gracefully touched the ground, she set the gravity back to normal, and called to them:

_"Hey"_

They were just turning to look at the source of that noise, when she drew her own gun out and shot their weapons out of their hands, sending gears, metal chunks, wires and plasma everywhere on the alleyway’s pavement.

The two looked at her, astounded and frightened at once, and raised their hands up as she pointed her gun towards them.

"Is my aim anywhere near as superb as yours, Sash?" she grinned.

"Ooohh” Tom sighed, looking at her feet. _“Gravity boots._ Now that explains it..."

"What do you think you're doing?! Put that gun down!” Sasha shouted. “Wait till the boss gets here, then-"

"If your _boss_ is as competent as you are, then I'll be extremely _relieved"_ she interrupted her.

"Wait!” Tom pleaded. _“Think_ about this. Prisons aren't so bad: their goal is correction-”

 _“And flagellation!”_ Sasha added.

“-not punishment. You'll simply be corrected. And I think you have a great potential to be redeemed: just now, you could have easily shot us. Instead, you chose to disarm us. I think that speaks volumes about your-”

 _"This?”_ Driver scoffed. “Oh, no. I was just giving you something _cool_ to witness before I send you to the eternal _fiery_ pit of Hell. Heh, get it? Now _hold still"_ she cocked her gun up and pointed it directly at Tom’ s face- " I w ouldn't wanna miss a vital part and _hurt_ you".

The two gasped, widening their eyes in terror and instinctively shrinking back.

Then suddenly, just when she was about to pull the trigger, _something_ closed around her wrist, squeezing it so tightly it forced her fingers to lighten the pressure around her gun; her arm was then pulled down and forced behind her back, making her hand drop her gun.

Another one of that something grabbed her other hand and pulled it behind her back.

“Ah!” a surprised gasp escaped her lips.

It’d happened so quickly, she’d barely had the time to even register what was happening to her, but when she felt a pressure on her wrists, she understood: she’d just been _handcuffed._ And _somebody_ behind her was restraining her.

Something grasped her shoulder; she tried to escape it, but it held her back with even more strength and pressure. She confusedly looked down, and saw a big hand in a brown glove, holding her by the shoulder.

Then, the person spoke in a calm, sweet voice:

"Looks like I got here just in time, guys"

Driver froze, pure panic rising in her chest. Someone had _ambushed_ her. Someone had… _captured_ her.

She thrashed around with every part of her body, trying to run away from him, but the hands on her wrists and her shoulder alone managed to keep her still in her place: he was much taller and stronger than her, she could tell. Even his voice, despite sounding sweetly melodic, had a _dangerous_ note to it.

"Boss! Ohhh, that was scary!” Tom sighed, relieved.

"She was about to _null_ us!" Sasha protested.

"I was just waiting for the right line to walk in and interrupt her. You did a _very_ good job” their boss chuckled.

“Hey you're a feisty one, aren't you?" he turned to her, as if her helpless thrashing could actually do _anything_ under his grip. _"Now..."_

And then, she felt his hand leave her shoulder… only to then sneak with a decisive, harsh movement between her buttocks.

She froze again, paralyzed by _stupor, revulsion_ and _terror_ at once.

"Be still, or I’ll have to grab you from the _front”_

"AAARRGH!" enraged, Driver let out a loud growl as she threw herself backwards, contorting her neck back in an attempt to gnaw at her attacker's face.

"Woah, hahaha! Careful with those!" he jumped back, narrowly avoiding her teeth.

She scowled at him, her teeth bared, finally able to take a good look at his face: cowboy hat on top of his head; thick glasses; bushy, huge mustaches, that took up all the place on his face. Tall, muscly body, covered all the way up in a crimson uniform and cape.

He grinned down at her, with his crooked, ugly teeth.

Already, she absolutely _hated_ that ugly face.

She struggled again, and he put an arm around her neck.

While they were struggling like that, her communicator started ringing.

"Take that from her, will you?" the boss gestured to one of his goons with a tilt of his head.

Sasha walked up to her; she lifted her foot up to kick her away, but the boss grabbed her chin and shook it.

"Hey, now. Stop attacking, seriously. Or I’ll _gouge an eye out"_ he threatened her.

Driver had no choice but giving in; she stayed as relaxed as possible, lest he carried out his threat, while Sasha picked the communicator out of her pocket and checked it.

"Uh. The 'Zim' Irken is calling her, boss"

 _“Leave him alone!”_ Driver pleaded, _“He has nothing to do with mE!”_ she yelped as the boss shook her chin again.

 _"Shut up._ Hand it over, Sash" he extended a hand to his minion.

Sasha obediently placed the still-ringing device into his hand, hand he deposited it in a pocket in his own pants.

"Go take care of him. I'll bring _this_ one to the boss" he commanded.

'Boss'? Had she _heard_ him right?!

"See? There’s nothing to _worry_ about” he reassured her with a mockingly sweet voice, “Soon, you'll be _together_ again".

"But we don't have guns anymore!" Tom noted.

"Then take the motorcycles, and force him out of the ship. And be careful not to kill him. We need him _alive”_

 _What?! Why?! Why would they need Zim?!,_ Driver thought of one good reason why one of her enemies would want Zim too. Was this… about their adventure on Flord?! Or maybe...

The two minions dashed past them, running back into the main street.

"Alright, love. Steady, now. You're coming with _me"_ he smirked.

From behind, he pushed her towards the main street, too, hand on her handcuffs.

She lowered her head in desolation. She was no match for him. For now, she would have no other choice but to comply with him.

"And make it quick, please" he added, kicking her bottom with a knee.

Drived growled at him, hastening her pace.

_I’ll murder him. I swear I’ll murder him, if it’s the last thing I do._

  
  


Zim removed the panel under the ship’s control keyboard and knelt to look inside: in front of him was a jungle of wires and cables underneath.

He had already repaired the damage on the roof: covering the hole with one of the back-up plated had been pretty easy. It was just temporary, but it would allow the ship to fly into space again for a while. Yet, the question remained: how could this have caused the problem with the ship's AI? He had analyzed the hole that that hollowed-out missile had dug, and it was all superficial damage, in no way connected to the AI.

Although... the shape of that hole was pretty weird: it didn't look like the metal had been melted by the heat, or even budged under the impact. Instead, on a closer look, it looked like it’d been ripped open, with scratches all around it, like an animal had clawed its way in. Just the thought made him shudder in disgust...

The source of the problem was clearly not there. So, he’d come back down again to fix the panel control directly.

Using his PAK’s flashlight, he made his way among the dusty cables, looking for something, whatever it was, out of place.

He frowned, thinking of those horrible bounty hunters. How dare they point their filthy weapons on him and Driver? How dare they interrupt them, just when… things were getting so... _good!… touches…!_

He shook his head. Now was not the time to get distracted, remembering the human’s delightfully pleasant touch. If he didn’t repress that memory right away, he would have never been able to properly concentrate on the repairs.

As he moved the three big cables out of his way, he felt something under his hands:

A panel, which read 'Power Core' on it.

Maybe the problem was lied there? It would have made sense, since power cores coordinated all the basic functions on a ship, and Driver’s had lost all of them, one by one.

He opened the panel, completely unprepared for what he saw underneath.

For a moment, he thought it might have been part of the ship's design. But no, of course it wasn't. It was completely different from anything else on the ship.

That thing was _alien._ And it was attached to the _power core._

But the strangest part was possibly its _form:_ it was _insect-like,_ like an unholy crossbreed between an ant and caterpillar. And it had his little, disgusting legs sunk inside the power core’s glowing, round mass.

 _"What... IS that?!"_ he whispered, incredulous.

He drew his legs out of his PAK and slooowly inched them forward to grab it. The creature didn't respond to his movements until he grabbed it, pulling it away from the power core: only at that point it started thrashing around with his body, and legs, and jaws in an attempt to escape from him.

Zim shuddered with disgust. Insects were so _creepy._

Slowly, steadily holding onto that disgusting thing, he backed on all fours out back in the control room.

Now that he could better, more closely look at that horrible creatures, he realized that it wasn’t actually organic like he though: that was a robot. Realistically designed and extremely life-like in its movements, but still a robot. All metal. No gooey parts! And thank the Universe for that, otherwise he would have probably barfed from the repulsion.

“Hah! You thought you could hiiiide from the great, ingenious, observant ZiM?! Rattle out your last writhing, pathetic metal creature!” he gloated, as he mercilessly cut the bug’s metal belly open with his third leg’s laser, revealing its internal circuits.

The bug contorted in one last painful movement, before turning completely still, for good.

Hopefully.

Zim took it apart, growing more and more anxious and incredulous as he examined it.

Two things were now apparent to him: one, that thing was a _probe._ It had landed on their ship with that first blow, inside the hollowed missile, and had chewed its way into the ship until it had reached its power core, forcing them to land on that planet.

And probably transmitting their coordinates to the ship that had launched it in the first place.

And two, even more alarming... that was _Irken_ in origin. Well, only in part, but that was undoubtedly _Irken_ technology in front of him: he could tell both by its design and its material, mixed up with foreign parts, like some kind of… zombie… stitched up… Franken-monster abomination.

“Eeeeughhh!” Zim gasped, “That’s even worse than an ant-caterpillar crossbreed! _Curse you, Universe! CURSE YOUUU!”_

“But what?! How, why, who?!” he then tried to make sense of it, “What does this mean for- _Driver”_

It suddenly came to mind: if the enemy really had been spying on them the whole time, then they’d probably followed her into the city, too.

Immediately, he tossed aside the bug's broken carcass, he drew his communicator out of his PAK and called her, hoping it wouldn’t be too late to warn her.

While the communicator rang in his ear, he restarted the ship’s system: now free from the bugs disruptive meddling, it turned on like normal.

"Ship!” he called to the AI, “Run an organic scan of the ship! Find if there's someone else aboard other than me!" he ordered: he couldn’t take any chances, after all. It wasn’t much of a stretch to think that somebody might have crawled on the ship with their disgusting body while its defenses were down.

On the windshield-screen, appeared a downloading bar, the word ‘SCANNING’ on top of it.

The communicator worriedly continued ringing with no answer, until eventually, the call ended automatically.

 _“Oh, no! Driver?!”_ he called, as if she could possibly hear him by him just screaming into the communicator.

“It’s not like her not to answer a call! What if they've already gotten to her? _What if-”_

"Unknown organic being identified” the ship’s robotic voice announced, and those words made the blood in his veins chill. “In. The central sector. of. The ventilation system".

Zim shot his terrified eyes up at the ventilation shaft that stuck out of the control room’s ceiling, right above him.

 _"WHO is there?!"_ he shouted.

How could a person _fit_ in there? Maybe he didn't have to worry much. After all, they had to be _comically_ small to be able to-

But then, the metal walls of the ventilation started shaking with a series of metallic sounds: something was _crawling_ towards him.

“Eeek!” Zim yelped, drawing his guns out, ready to defend himself.

Suddenly, the person (?) inside the ventilation shaft hit the panel away, sending it on the floor in front of his feet.

Zim shuddered again in fear, and looked at that gaping dark hole in the ceiling: a pair of eyes evil, hateful eyes was watching him from up there.

The enemy slowly crept out, a devious smirk on its face.

_"Hello, cockroach"._

Driver had very dearly hoped that he'd take her to the police: breaking out of jail wouldn't have been a problem. She herself had broken people out of prison before. Honestly, it was _weird_ for someone in her field not to have ever been imprisoned.

Instead, she'd been dragged to an abandoned factory in the suburb of the city -not the one where she'd parked her ship, unfortunately, but the one on the _exact opposite_ side. To be questioned, presumably.

And _tortured,_ probably.

The _slimy piece of garbage_ had pushed her out of the alleyway; curious bystanders had looked at them, and he'd given them a revoltingly polite smile, saying:

"Nothing to worry about, folks. This is a _criminal_ under arrest"

"No, I'm not! _Help!_ " she'd tried thrashing and protesting, numerous times.

But no one had lifted a finger to rescue her.

He'd escorted her to his motorcycle and had told her:

"Alright, love, I'm gonna have to ask you to _shut up_ while you're in my bike. So make yourself comfortable, be still and _don't make a sound, or I'll cut your tongue"_

She had obeyed and stayed still and mute behind him, on the passengers seat, her hands still dangerously tied behind her back- though he probably wouldn't have cared much if she'd slipped out of her seat and fallen on the ground: she was wanted alive _or_ dead in most galaxies.

So he'd ridden them to that factory; right in front of its entrance, their big, golden ship was parked, its front still smeared with her black goo.

 _I wish that'd been explosive goo,_ she'd thought.

As they entered it, she couldn't see much of the place, as its interior was almost pitch black, the little windows on top of the walls not nearly enough to illuminate it; she could tell, however, that it was _big,_ and _empty,_ and _dusty._

Well, pitch black except for _one_ small patch: she'd looked up, to see four projectors hung on the walls, all pointing at a table in the middle of that huge, square room, giving the impression that that table, the two chairs under it, and the floor they were standing on were the only existing things in there, floating in a black void.

 _Very theatrical,_ she'd mentally commented. 

The piece of garbage had made her sit on the chair closest to the door, while he'd sat in front of her. He'd placed her personal objects- her cape, her belt with her tools, her communicator and her gun- on the table, as to mockingly say: _Come on, try and grab them._

Once he was done with that ceremony, he started questioning her.

"What's your name?" he asked.

"Monika"

"Really?" he retrieved something from a drawer under the table: a folder. "Isn't it Berta? Or Fifì? Or Ivy? Or any of those listed in here?" he asked, going through the sheets of paper.

"My name is Monika" she repeated.

"Well, here are your wanted posters, _Monika"_ he drew a stack of pinned-together sheets out of the folder; he held them up for them, alternatively moving the one on top to the bottom, in order to show them all to her. "Twenty-three names, one description. _Twenty-four names,_ actually, if we count 'Monika'. But guess what? The description is still a single, _univocal_ one. Wanted in multiple galaxies, including"

And then, he listed _all_ of them off. Driver didn't bother listening to him: she didn't really remember all of the galaxies she was wanted in, and she wasn't about to start any time soon. Instead, imagining all the ways she would have tortured him in once she got free was a _much_ better use of her time: they were all pretty distinct from one another, but they all ended with her setting his genitals on fire in some way.

"... for a total bounty of 2.150.485 monies. And do you know why?" he finally concluded his tedious list.

"It must be a mistake. I've never done anything illegal" she monotonously chanted.

"You haven't? Are you sure?" he asked, feigning uncertainty, his smug, slimy, crooked smile still on his face, "Don't you possibly recall any forgery, robbing, bribing, stealing, falsifying, loitering, tax evading, smuggling, murdering, revolution-inciting ever happening in your life?"

"It must be a mistake. I've never done any of that" she repeated in that same, bored, one-note tone.

"No? So this isn't you in these photos?"

He put the wanted posters down, and showed her a series of photos like he'd done with those documents: they were few, and low-quality, as she'd always been careful not to show her face during her crimes, but... yes, that was _unmistakably_ her in the photos. There depicted stealing, or robbing, or smuggling, or something else illegal.

"What were you doing here, uh?" he urged her for an answer.

"I don't know"

"You don't know if this is you or you don't know what you were doing in the photos?"

"I don't know".

He scoffed, probably surprised that she still hadn't cracked after the way he'd terrorized her so far.

"I'll tell you what you were doing: you were disrupting the peace among some _honest, good people,_ for your own selfish _whims._ _That's_ what you were doing. Dozens of people have come out to testify against you, honest citizens that weren't at all deserving of ever coming in contact with _scum_ like you in their lives.

Driver looked up at his crooked teeth. She really wished she had her persuader with her, to knock them all out of his stupid, hypocritical mouth.

"But now, what presses me more is _this"_ he reached his arm out, shaking the photos directly under her nose. _"Who_ are _these people?_ What is your _organization_ called? And _where_ can we find them?"

Driver couldn't help but smirk: those weren't 'people', in the photos with her. That was _one_ person. Mister Krassmann, disguised as a different species in each image. 

"Are you part of the police?" she asked him. "If not, I don't have to tell you anything. In fact, keeping me here against my will _is_ a crime"

"Nice try, but when I'm out _hunting_ for you lot, I _qualify_ as tutor of the law. Interrogating you is well within my right, _especially_ if it can help capturing other _vermin_ like you"

"A 'tutor of the law'" she mockingly repeated. "Now _that's_ funny. I would have never guessed, looking at your _ugly face._ Say, is sexual harassment _also_ within your right?" she leaned in towards him, growling in a deeper voice.

"Ohohoh, please!" he chuckled, shaking his head. "Don't play the victim. You're barely even a _person,_ much less a _woman"_

Driver turned her tongue in her mouth, to keep herself from spitting in his face.

"Look. Here's the deal..." he continued, joining his hands on the table.

"See, my _friends_ are gonna be back with your little boyfriend _very soon._ And I wouldn't want to have to use him to get information out of you"

Driver's scowl deepened even more.

“There’s a special place in _hell_ for those who threaten people with their loved ones' lives” she hissed.

"I have no idea what a 'hell' is. And I don't really _care_ " he dismissively shook his head. "So now, be a good girl and answer my-"

"Hey, wait a second!" she suddenly interrupted him, "I _know_ what you are! I knew I had seen your kind somewhere before!"

The bounty hunter confusedly stared at her, his confidence faltering for the first time.

"You're a Tufudully! Those _aren't_ muscles, are they? It's all _fur!_ When you're naked, you look like giant _sh_ _eaves of hair,_ don't you?! Oh my GOD, how did you fit inside those small clothes?! Hahaha, no wonder you dress up like that! No one would take you _seriously_ if you went around looking like a _giant furby!"_ she mocked him.

He stared at her for a moment, his expression hidden behind the glasses and his thick fur. He was probably surprised, or embarrassed, or furious. Or all three at once.

Finally, he clicked his tongue, and resumed speaking:

 _"Okay._ I gotta admit it. You've got guts. But I'm a _very_ patient man. Trust me when I say I'd be down to questioning you for _days_ if necessary, and getting a confession out of you _isn't_ going to be limited to simple _questions-"_

"Hah! You act so high and mighty, when you had to _sneak up on me_ and _handcuff me_ so you could be even able to ask me a _'simple'_ question! You _bloated coward!_ How about you _untie_ me, so I can show you how _un-person-like_ I can be?!" she threateningly growled, showing her bare teeth to him.

The bounty hunter was about to reply, when a deep, robotic voice spoke from the darkness behind him:

_"Step back. I'll take it from here"._

Driver stared up at the pitch black darkness in front of her. She recognized it: it was the voice that had spoken to her on the ship. So it was an artificially modified voice?

The bounty hunter slid out of his seat, walking back from the table and placing himself to its right. In the darkness next to him, something _big_ and _heavy_ moved towards her.

How very _theatrical_ of him, indeed: he'd hidden his presence during their whole conversation, hiding in the darkness, away from the light of the strategically-positioned projectors.

A sting of fear pierced Driver's heart: it was just a presentiment, but something within her was telling that whoever was in the darkness was much, _much_ worse than any of the other bounty hunters.

 _"You know Zim, don't you?"_ the voice asked.

"W... what do you know of him?" she whimpered.

 _"Hahaha._ _More than you, that's for sure..."_

The figure came forward; the light illuminated him enough to tell her that he was well bigger and taller than the bounty hunter's leader.

_"But if he's really been hiding with you all his time, he must have certainly told you about me..."_

As the stranger came forth, his face finally basked, in the light, revealing itself to her.

Driver widened her eyes in upmost stupor: he was standing inside some kind of _metal structure,_ that moved on two legs. But his _actual_ body was much, much smaller than that. Clothed in black. With pale, bare skin, and dark, black, spiky hair on top of his head. For the first time in almost a decade, there stood a member of her _own_ species before her. And he was...

"THE BLOB!" Zim screamed, pointing an accusatory finger at the intruder, "You're that _horrible, shady_ blob from that _horrible_ , _shady_ bar!"

"The displeasure is _all_ mine" the Blob glared at him, its gelatinous, blue body elongating from inside the ventilation shaft.

"B-but- _How?!_ How did you- AH! You were traveling inside that _missile!_ Along with that _disgusting_ probe! Did _you_ make it?! How did you track us?! _Why_ are you _stalking_ us?!"

"Hah, well. That's pretty obvious, isn't it?" he chuckled, "After you and that _tramp_ of your girlfriend destroyed my business, I had to change _job:_ I _allied_ myself with the same people I'd called to help me against you. And they were _kind_ enough to take me in"

"Hey, she's not a _tramp! You're_ a tramp! _Whatever that might mean!_ But STILL! You didn't tell me your motives! _Why_ are you still _bothering us?!_ Don't you have anything _better_ to do?!"

The Blob narrowed his angry eyes at him.

"You set _my bar_ on fire!" he yelled.

"... my question still stands"

"That _bar_ was my _life!"_ he yelled even louder.

"Ah. Wow. So that's why you always looked sad" 

The Blob gritted his toothless gums in rage.

 _"Oh, I'm going to have fun with this..."_ he growled. His body started dividing into tentacles, as he started climbing out of the shaft.

"Stay back! Get your disgusting body out of Driver's ship! Or ELSE!" Zim pointed his laser guns directly at his face.

"What? You _care_ about her now? How _cute"_ he smirked, "The you'll be _delighted_ to know, that your _girlfriend_ is already safe and sound in _our_ hands. I got the message just a _moment_ ago"

"Y- you're bluffing! That's not _true!"_ Zim accused him, though... that would have explained _why_ she wasn't answering at her communicator.

"Oh, and look. Here come my _friends,_ with _perfect_ timing" the Blob pointed at a place behind him with one of his tentacles.

Zim turned around, to see two approaching vehicles in the distance.

"Don't get so cocky, _blob!_ " he shook his fist back at him. "This is the _indeed_ the perfect timing. For _me, ZIM!,_ to prove my _destructive greatness_ to my _partner-ally! Just you wait!"_

He smirked at his enemy and spread hi feet apart, setting himself in a battle stance.

"I'll take _all_ of you heads out of your _disgusting necks_ and _offer them to her!_ She'll be _ecstatic!"_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter is coming up VERY soon. Like, ACTUALLY very soon. Not USUAL very 'soon'.


	18. Common Enemies (Part 2)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Driver and Zim escape the clutches of their enemies in the least wacky, non-sensical, city-destroying way possible. I promise.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> People with tentacles have no rights
> 
> Cute, comfort scene at the end for those who aren't interested in the wacky action

Driver stared in a scared, astounded, and decisively _un-ecstatic_ manner at the figure in front of her.

At the _human_ in front of her.

Her mind went back to Zim's tellings of his mission Earth: if he really knew Zim from that time, like he claimed, there was only one person he could be...

"Oh my God..." she murmured, "Now I remember. You're that kid Zim is always telling me about... the one that constantly pestered him during his mission..."

The kid lowered the Voice Modifier he was using, and finally spoke in his real voice, lips curled in a maliciously excited grin:

 _"Aha..."_ he let out a soft chuckle _, "so you've heard of me"_

Driver's whole body shivered at the sound of his voice.

Under any other circumstances, judging by his appearance, she would have probably written the kid off as an edgy, geeky cosplayer of some kind: he had bizarrely spiky hair, a long, ripped black coat and a white mask which only covered his face's left side, leaving a black hole in place of his eye; on top of it he wore a pair of big, round glasses. Yet, though she could not pinpoint exactly why, something was telling her that he was much, much more _dangerous_ than the full grown bounty hunter to his left, or than most of the opponents she'd ever had to face so far.

Then again, it was probably only the fact that she was handcuffed and under interrogation. And that she was possibly going to be tortured for information on the only two people she truly cared about in her life. And that a creepy, cadaver-pale, deranged kid was staring at her, sitting in some kind of _throne_ with legs and armed with cannons.

God, what an astronomically crappy day that was.

And it was about to get even crappier if this kid was really as unhinged as Zim had described him...

"You're..."

 _"Say it"_ he urged her, a sinister, enthusiastic shimmer in his eye, _"Say my name"_

"... You're _Keef!_ " Driver finally let out.

"YES!" the kid threw his arms up in a triumphant gesture, the legs of the throne raising him further up as to follow and accentuate that movement.

"I! AM!!! _THE!!!!! E-_ wait, what?"

The kid suddenly stared back down at her, eye widened in shock, his arms frozen above his head.

Driver blinked in utter confusion.

 _"Keef?_ Did you just say _Keef?!"_

She gulped in fear. Had she gotten his wrong? She was absolutely certain that that was the exact name Zim had mentioned many, many times.

"Yeah...?" she whispered.

 _"Keef?!?"_ the kid repeated, sounding even more indignant and shocked.

Intimidated by his insistent, wide-eyed stare, Driver looked left and right, as if to look for a clue, an advice on what to say; to the kid's left, in the background, the bounty hunters' leader coughed into his hand, a trembling smirk on his face, seemingly struggling to keep himself from laughing.

"... no?" Driver dared to ask, shrinking in her seat.

"NO!" the kid roared, "No, I'm not Keef! He isn't- He's- I am Zim's biggest enemy! His _nemesis!_ Surely he must have told you of me!"

Driver tried to think back of all the classmates from Zim's time in an Earth school that he had told her about, but couldn't remember of one whose description fit this weird, scary kid that wasn't 'Keef'.

But because his expectant, creepy staring was so unnerving, she went for the next best strategy and tried guessing:

"... Brian?"

 _"No!"_ he punched the throne's panel in anger.

"Dirge?"

"No!"

"Melvin? Poonchy? Carl?" she desperately hurled every name she remembered at him, but without any luck, and the kid's expression slowly changed from furiously outraged to disappointingly sad.

"... Zeta?"

"Zeta is a girl's name! _I'm Dib!"_ he finally shouted, voice cracking as he said his real name, _"Dib Membrane!_ He seriously never told you about me?! _Never?!"_

"Uhhhhh..." she made one last attempt to remember Zim ever pronouncing the word 'Dib' in any context possible, but again couldn't.

In the end, she simply shook her head apologetically.

Dib's arms fell limp to his sides; his chest deflated and the throne lowered him down, in an expression of disappointment and hurt.

"I can't believe he'd mention _Melvin_ of all people, but not me..." Dib dejectedly murmured to himself, his sad face pointed down.

"I can't believe it's true..." Driver breathed out in a strained scoff.

Dib looked up at her with a confused expression.

"All this time, I thought Zim had been joking about fighting with children, but it's true! You're a literal _child!_ And- and- you're the _boss_ here? You?! _How?! Why?!_ Do your parents even know what you're doing?!?"

Dib blinked at her, taken aback by her words.

"Uh-"

"And _you,_ oh my GOD!" she turned to the bounty hunters' leader. "You've been taking orders from a _toddler?!_ Are you _insane?!"_

The bounty hunter casually shrugged.

"He's a very persuasive guy" he smirked.

"Hey, I'm not a toddler!" Dib protested in his petulant, childish voice, "I'm almost twelve! I'm practically a _teen!"_

Driver frowned at him in disbelief.

"With that stature?" she couldn't help but asking. That kid was about the same height as Zim, and _he_ barely stood above her hips!

"My height is pretty average!" Dib retorted.

"Really? Damn. They really doubled down on dumping hormones in the water since I left..." Driver reflected.

Dib was about to retort once more, but she interrupted him:

"But seriously, where are your parents?" she asked him, "A kid like you can't be all alone in space! Even worse, around people like _him!"_ she gestured towards the bounty hunter.

All of a sudden, Dib's expression changed back to being dark and intimidating; only this time he didn't look at all mocking, but rather enraged and resentful.

"Funny that you'd ask about _my family"_ he hissed. "You know, since Zim took them all away from me. Actually, I am pretty sure you _did_ know that"

"... what? I-"

"If you know about Zim's mission, then you'll also know _how it ended"_ he brashly interrupted her.

Oh. Right. How could she have forgotten about the Ea-

 _"The planet Earth!"_ he exclaimed, throwing his hands up all theatrically again, his eye looking at a vague, indefinite point of the dark room, like an actor holding a monologue in front of an audience of listeners. _"My home planet!_ Zim completely disintegrated it, right before my eyes!" his voice grew in an angry crescendo.

Then, he suddenly bent his back forward, fists clenching.

 _"I tried to stop him"_ he continued in a lower, yet more rage-filled voice. The legs of the mysterious contraption readjusted under him. His eye shimmered unsettling in the dim light.

"I came as soon as I learnt of his next, wicked plan to doom mankind. As I had done many times before. Who could have known, that this time he would have actually succeeded?"

His eye darted towards her again, in a suddenness that startled her, making her do a little jump on her chair.

"I flew up in his space station, to stop whatever it was that he was planning. I wiped out his defenses without breaking any sweat. Soon enough I broke into the main control room. _I jumped on him!_ And we struggled! And I totally had the upper hand the whole time. I was in a pretty amazing form on that day. Like, even more than usual!" he nodded at her as if looking for her agreement.

Driver awkwardly nodded back at him. God, this kid was almost as full of himself as Zim was, if not more. If he hadn't described their relationship as mortal animosity, she would have taken them for best friends.

"Little did I know, that the _planet-dooming machine_ was actually on the Earth's surface!" his tone turned to dramatic again. "Upon his order, the machine activated. The Earth span on itself, faster, _and faster_ , until it vanished into thin air! Billions of people, _gone,_ just like that! _The Earth's collapsing gravity almost sucked us in too"_ he expressed that last sentence in a low, angry growl.

"That _idiot_ had miscalculated the distance between the planet and the station. Maybe it would have been better that way: at least now he would be _dead"_ his frown deepened as his angry stare grew more and more focused on her.

"We both ran to our ships as the station collapsed. _But I wasn't quick enough"_ he continued, his voice getting quieter. In his eye, Driver caught a lingering glimpse of the fear that he must have felt at that panicked moment.

"My ship was caught in a sort of... _dimensional distortion._ Leaving me _disfigured"_ he passed a hand over the white mask that covered half his face, his gaze seemingly lost into nothingness. "I remember seeing Zim flying away. He probably thought I was dead. Like my people, like my _family._ But I was in fact the only survivor of the human race"

His expression jarringly changed again, as his eye focused on her again and he smiled a devious grin.

"Hey. Wanna see what's under this mask?"

"Uh, it's- it's not necessary-" she stammered.

"I think you should see it" he abruptly interrupted her. _"You might find it interesting..."_

And with that ominous remark, he raised his hands up; one removed his glasses while the other slowly worked to remove his half-mask. Driver stared at his movements, as if hypnotized _-How does he keep it on? Does he glue it to his face?,_ she distractedly wondered.

As he revealed his face to her, what she saw under his mask surprised her so much, her brain took a couple seconds to fully process it.

She had expected to see a scar, or a patch of exposed flesh, or a burn maybe, but not only did the left half of his face not match with the rest of- it didn't even look human.

The first thing that she noticed was an intense, dark _black,_ like the one that covered the room. For a moment she thought he might have been wearing a second mask under the first white one, but then she noticed that it was _alive,_ or at the very least _moving,_ like it was _pulsing._ Or _breathing._

All of a sudden, an _eye_ peeked open from that blackness.

 _"Woah-"_ Driver reflexively moved her head back. That was no human eye: it was yellow, with a slit-shaped pupil, like a cat's.

Dib wore his glasses again, and his smirk widened in amusement to her reaction.

"Ironic, isn't it? The last human alive, and he's not even fully _human_ anymore..."

Dib moved his head, and Driver that the black mass that his face's left side didn't look compact, nor concrete: rather, it moved in a weird, _fluid_ way, like it was made of _smoke,_ or _fire._

"... at least so I thought, until I learnt of _you"_ his voice suddenly got lower again.

Driver shivered under Dib's mismatched eyes. Something about him was so eerily _familiar._ Had she possibly met him before? Or someone _like him?_

"Tell me" he continued, "how does it make you feel, knowing that Zim did this to me? You know, besides the whole terror and fear. _Uh?_ Pity? _Compassion?"_

"Ah, uh- uhm-" she stammered.

_I've hit the jackpot of all the crappy situations, haven't I?_

"Do-Don't be so negative, kid, haha!" she nervously chuckled, "It doesn't look so bad! Trust me, give it a couple years, and the artsy girls with black nail polish and piercings will be totally into that-"

"WHAT GIRLS?!" Dib roared in anger, throwing his fists up. The extremities of his 'smoke face' turned into what looked like writhing, black tentacles, and Driver could have _sworn_ she heard them emit a _hissing sound._

 _"ZIM LITERALLY KILLED ALL OF THEM!!!"_ he hit the throne's panel with his fists again.

His 'face tentacles' extended forward, as if to reach to her face.

She shrunk even more in her seat, and for a moment she was _certain_ she was not going to get out of this alive.

Dib's thundering scream echoed through the dark factory, making the hair on her nape stick up.

"And you KNEW that didn't you?! _You KNEW what Zim had done to the Earth, and still CHOSE to stay by his side!"_ he accused her.

"H-he, he had never... told me that" she attempted to lie, voice trembling. "Zim and I just... work together!... temporarily. I don't actually know him that well-"

"You just called him a 'loved one'" Dib growled, disgust visible on his face. "In any case, it's too late to lie now. I've been tracking you ever since you met in that bar..."

Driver's heart skipped a beat, her blood freezing in her veins.

_That can't be true, right? He's just saying it to make it look like he planned this all along-_

"... _and_ I have even found an eye witness who confirmed the nature of your relationship!" he pointed an accusatory finger at her, jabbing it forward with each of his statements: "Thanks to him, I met and joined these _bounty hunters,_ and with their help I tracked down your every move, from the bar that you blew up, to Flord, to the market! I set this base here, and sent that probe on your ship so that you'd fall right into my grasp!"

Dib clenched his fists, the smoke tentacles writhing in the air, their movements seemingly fueled by his seething anger.

 _"That's right._ He's fallen into my trap, and he doesn't even know it" he clenched his fists tight enough to make his arms shake, _"I_ am the superior mind. I _always_ was. I was supposed to win, on that day! He just got _lucky"_

Driver looked away from him for a moment, reflecting on what he'd just said.

First thing, the 'probe'. Is that what that empty missile was? Or more likely, the probe had traveled _on_ it. Well, that explained why her ship had suddenly started malfunctioning, and how they'd tracked him down to that planet.

But what about this eye witness? Who was he?! If he'd seen them at the bar since the very first moment, then-

Oh.

 _Oh._ That horrible, opportunistic, treacherous blob barman...

She clenched her own handcuffed fists, and gritted her teeth in rage, adding him on top of her murder list, right next to the bounty-hunting dirtbag.

"I didn't really think Zim was even into that... _sort of stuff"_ Dib continued, sounding calmer, yet more disgusted. "I guess, when he saw what he thought being the last member of the race he had destroyed, he thought well of keeping her as a _souvenir._ A rare trophy to flaunt around, that attested his successful _carnage"_

"Oh my God, kid, that's _perverse!"_ Driver indignantly exclaimed, "Did _Sleazebag_ over there teach you that?" she tilted her head towards the bounty hunter; he let out a low, amused chuckle at her words.

"'Perverse'? I bet you'd know 'perverse', uh?! _Hooking up_ with the destroyer of our world!" Dib pointed his finger at her again. "At first I thought he'd probably brainwashed you, but after my hunters gathered information about you, I realized you were made from the same cloth as _he_ was!"

"Look, _Dib"_ she tried to keep her voice firm. At this point, she didn't know if it was anger or fear that was making her tremble. "Is that what are you getting at? You are here to 'punish' us? Is it revenge that you want? Without even letting us explain ourselves? Then at least drop that act of 'justice-fighter'. It doesn't impress me _one bit"_

Dib frowned at her, a side of his mouth trembling, irritated by her sudden snark, but not as taken aback as she'd hoped he'd be.

"Nothing you have to 'explain' will ever make what he did okay. My vengeance IS just. But..."

He leaned towards her, hands on the panel, his tentacles writhing down to reach to her.

"... if you think it will be limited to _him alone,_ you're sorely mistaken. I won't let any other planet suffer what the _Earth_ did. I might have failed to protect my own planet, but now, with these new powers and my growing army of _justice bringers,_ I will save the whole universe from the _Irken menace!"_ he triumphantly raised his fists in the air. "You get it? _Zim is just the first of many._ But, what better way to start than with the very destroyer of my own world, after all?"

 _Oh my God,_ Driver grimaced. _This kid is insane._

No, even worse than that. This was a child with the body of a _monster_ and a _gang_ at his orders. Depending on how she handled the situation now, getting herself out of there would have either proved extremely easy or _hellishly_ difficult...

"Kid... _please"_ she spelled out very slowly and very calmly, "Listen to me for a moment. It was an _accident._ He didn't mean to destroy the E-"

 _"He spent years trying to destroy the Earth!"_ Dib shrilled in anger, "He is a _monster!_ And you know what? He doesn't even really _love_ you. He _hates_ human, and he doesn't love anyone but _himself! All_ Irkens are like that! All they know is _killing and destroying!_ Look:" and he offered her a hand in a seemingly peaceful gesture. "If there was ever a chance to redeem yourself, _this is it._ Ally yourself with me. Tell me what his next plans are. Help me unravel the secrets of his race. We'll _avenge_ our people. And I'll let you go scot-free in return".

Driver tentatively looked at his extended hand.

Maybe pretending to help him would have worked? But that kid looked way too dangerous: playing along the authorities' games turned out _deadly_ more often than not.

And above all, she didn't know where Zim was, or what those other bounty hunters were doing to him. Had he been captured? Was he fighting them? Was he _dead?_ And whatever that kid had in store for him, was a hundred times worse than whatever he'd in mind for _her._ Right now, the priority was breaking free and helping Zim.

She moved her tongue, trying to conjure new saliva in her dried mouth.

As of now, she only had one viable plan to escape her enemies' clutches. And while it might have worked well when she'd thought she only had one opponent guarding her, now that they were two the liabilities were one too many.

Then again... did she really have any other choice?

 _I need to get him calm,_ she reflected, _and I need to get them close to one another._

She smacked her lips, and tried to speak in a sweet, calm voice:

"Dib. I know it may be hard to believe, but the Earth wasn't actually destroyed. It just disappeared in another dimension. If you just-"

 _"LIAR!"_ Dib barked, "Zim _lied_ to you! He always lies! HOW can you be so apathetic to the billions of fellow humans that he killed?! _You_ are a monster, just like he is!" his tentacles emitted that screeching sound again as he hit the panel with his clenched fists, "And after we're done with the Irken Empire, it's gonna be the turn of cruel, unfeeling criminals like you! The _Mysterious Justice Bringers_ will bring about a new era of peace for the Universe! This is my chance to do something _good_ for the Universe, like I _always_ wanted! And no one is gonna be able to _ignore_ me anymore!"

Driver waited for the echoes of his screams to die out. She waited for his _panting breath_ to ease down.

Then, when she was sure she wouldn't be interrupted again, she stared right into his eyes and spoke:

"Look, _child._ I _agree_ with you. In an ideal world, no one would need to break the law or hurt others to get by. But. The world _isn't_ as simple as you think it is, and things don't always go the way they are supposed to. _These people..."_ she gestured to the bounty hunter leader behind him,"...are _not_ your friends. And I know I'm not the best person around, but let me tell you, I _know_ space well enough to know that they aren't _good_ people either. Your intentions are very noble, but they don't _care_ for them. All they want is your powers, and your knowledge, and the _monies_ they can earn with them"

"Hah! _Please!"_ the bounty hunter scoffed dismissively. But on Dib's face, she could see a hint of pensive doubt.

Maybe she was actually gonna be able to convince him...

"I know how lonely it is for a human to be alone in space" she nodded in an understanding expression. "I miss my home too. That's why me and Zim have been trying to bring the Earth back from the dimension where it's stuck. Do you really think I could ever 'hook up' with the destroyer of my race? I don’t think anyone could! _Dib._ Let's find Zim. Let’s have a _civil_ talk about it, away from these _vultures,_ and I promise, we will send you back to your home and to your _family"._

Dib slowly lowered his finger, his frowning face softening. Clearly, he was seriously reflecting on her words. Maybe she really had gotten through him!

"A civil talk?! With _you?!_ There's nothing 'civilized' about you!" the bounty hunter leader suddenly yelled.

He then marched with long, heavy steps back to the table, right next to her, and violently hit it with a fist; Driver's objects shook with the table, and she flinched away from him as much as she could on her chair, her fearful, yet angry eyes fixed on him.

"Who do you think you're fooling here, uh?! First, you treat him like a _defenseless child._ Then you try to pit us against each other and ask for his _help"_ he bent over towards her, his lips parted to show his ugly, gritted teeth. _"You're just a sneaky little liar._ And a bad one at that. _'Dimensional travel'._ That's _fairy tale_ junk. How stupid do you think we are? Right, _boss?"_

The bounty hunter turned to Dib, whom he'd snapped out of his considerations on her offer.

"Uh- yeah! _Right!"_ Dib shook his head; he cleared his throat and continued with a more secure voice: "As if I'd ever believe one of Zim's minions!"

Driver tried to retort, but the bounty hunter interrupted her again:

"Also, don't you try to compare yourself to the boss!" he pointed his index right under her nose, "So life is hard. Big deal! _It is for everyone!_ And no one knows it better than our boss here. Only _he_ didn't make a living out of robbing and scamming good, honest people like _you_ did. Instead, he lifted himself right from the ground and devoted himself to justice, becoming a hero for the people! Isn't that right?"

"Why, heh. I mean, I guess I did" Dib nodded in fake modesty, a hand awkwardly scratching his nape.

Driver glared at the bounty hunter with the utmost hate and rage. She has just about to bite his finger off, when he withdrew it to turn to Dib.

“I don't think this one is gonna talk easily. She is a _seasoned criminal._ It's gonna take a lot more than a nice talk to make her confess. If you... _know what I mean”,_ and he pronounced that last line in such a malicious, creepy way that it sent a shiver through Driver's spine.

Dib turned to glare at her. Driver widened her eyes in fear; it wouldn't have been so bad if he didn't have that creepy yellow eye to stare at her with.

 _"Yeah. I know just the thing to make you talk..."_ he growled at her.

The legs of his throne moved, carrying him closer to her and above the table.

“W-wait, Dib!" she yelled, "He’s clearly lying! He’s just trying to flatter you into trusting him! How can you believe him?!”

"Oh, and just for the record" the bounty hunter raised an index finger, "'Mysterious Justice Bringers' is a much better name than the one we had before!"

"It's not, and everyone here knows it!" Driver tried to protest.

"Ha! I KNEW you were lying to me! You really ARE a terrible monster!" Dib angrily yelled.

"What does THIS have to do with- AAAH!"

Dib's face tentacles suddenly shot on her shoulders and held on her so strongly, she couldn't even budge one inch under his grip; despite looking so smoky and evanescent, they were very much _physical_ and _strong,_ even stronger than that bounty hunter's hands.

Driver froze in place, and looked up at Dib in terror, feeling the blood drain from her face.

"This is the last chance to tell me what Zim is planning on doing on your own volition" he said.

"N-no- D-Dib, please, listen to me, I-" she tried to plead with trembling lips.

 _"Fine"_ more smoky tentacles came out of his head, and started to slowly creep towards her. _"Have it your way._ I'm gonna give you a taste of what I'll do to Zim once they bring him to _me"_

"W-what- no-" Driver wailed, trying to squirm under his crushing strength, the tentacles reaching closer and closer to her.

"You see, I know enough about Irken _technology"_ Dib explained in a casual tone, and knocked on the machine under him. "All that's missing is their _biology._ And, of course, their _PAKs._ You know, this might actually come in handy..."

"Oh my God, kid, you don't mean-" Driver's breathed out, her voice reduced to a whisper.

Then, the tips of the tentacles morphed, the black smoke twirling around to form what looked like... _surgical instruments._ Driver really wished she was just dreaming it, but that was what they unequivocally were: a couple turned into knives, one into a saw, another one into a weird claw.

"After all, I have never actually _vivisected_ something that big. I need _practice"_ he hissed, eyes fixed into hers.

"OH MY GOD, YOU'RE INSANE! WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH YOU?!" Driver yelled, instinctively holding her belly in, legs kicking, _terrified_ out of her mind.

 _"Hah._ Never heard that one before" Dib scoffed in an annoyed voice.

"Don't disfigure her too much, boss" the bounty hunter advised him in a sadistically enthusiastic voice, that Driver swore sounded _aroused,_ "If they can't identify her, they won't pay us the bounty"

"No way! No! STOP! _You can't do this Dib I'm not lying I AM A HUMAN TOO!"_ Driver desperately pleaded.

Dib glared at her.

"This is what you get for sticking with the enemy of mankind", and with that, he activated that saw-tentacle, which despite looking like it was made of smoke produced a _whirring, metallic_ sound, and neared it closer and closer to her body.

"O-okay! OKAY! _I'll tell you!"_ Driver screamed, eyes squeezed shut, and she prayed that this single, last plan would work. "I'LL TELL YOU THE TRUTH! Zim is trying to build a... _another world destroyer!_ We were heading to a secret laboratory to build it there! I have the coordinates _right here_ with me!"

The whirring sound stopped.

Driver tentatively opened her eyes; looking down, she saw that black saw, turned off, a mere inch from her stomach.

 _"I KNEW IT!"_ Dib triumphantly yelled, and started shaking her by the shoulders, so violently that her head painfully jerked back and forth. _"Where?! Where is the place?!_ _Tell me!_ I have to make sure no one gets access to that weapon ever again!"

"Y-yes" she panted, relieved, yet still trembling by that near-torture experience, "Look in the left back pocket of my pants. I keep the coordinates there".

Dib's tentacles withdrew and disappeared into his head in the bat of an eye; he gestured to the bounty hunter with a nod of his head to search her.

The bounty hunter meekly sighed, disappointed that he didn't get to see her being tortured after all, and headed towards her.

 _"Stand up"_ he brashly ordered. Driver obeyed; he pushed her back forward with one hand, while with the other he searched in the back pocket (brushing a little _too harshly_ against her bottom). Then, he drew out its content, and held it out for Dib to see.

"There's just a _necklace_ in here" the bounty hunter shook Ojod's golden necklace, holding it by the chain; the heart locket twinkled in the dim light as it swung in the air.

"I've written the coordinates inside the locket" Driver nodded reassuringly, "It's-"

 _"Shut up"_ the bounty hunter pushed her back in her chair pressing down on her head.

Then, he went back to the other side of the table and handed the locket to Dib; he grabbed a scan from some place under his throne, one very similar to Zim's, and used it to scan the object for any possible trap; the scanner emitted a negative beep, and he smugly smirked.

"See? _You should've collaborated from the start"_

Dib rolled the locket in his hands, examining it, and Driver stared at him in what she hoped wasn't a suspicious way.

"Haha! It's even _heart-shaped!_ Did _he_ give it to you? Awww, you two _sacks of garbage_ are just so cute!" he exclaimed.

"Y-yeah..." she quietly whispered, lowering her head, trying not to look at him too intently.

A horrible presentiment told her that he wouldn't have immediately opened the locket; or that he would have somehow figured out what it actually was before even opening it -maybe with that monstrous yellow eye of his.

Instead, much to her relief, her plan _worked:_ Dib opened the heart-shaped locket, and the light of the Lighthouse enveloped his face in its warm halo.

Initially, Dib frowned, confused; the bounty hunter, curious, walked closer to look better inside. Then, both their expressions relaxed; their mouths opened so slightly, letting out two amazed sighs.

Driver slowly lifted her head up, to see that both their faces had become fixed in a surprised, yet content expression; their entranced eyes glimmered of the Light of Peace -even Dib's creepy monster eye, now widened in a perfectly round shape.

 _Just like a cat, uh?,_ Driver considered.

She quietly sighed in relief, amazed that that plan had actually worked: now was her chance to escape.

Keeping her eyes on her captors, she passed her tied hands under her bottom and her legs; then, afraid that any sudden movement could have snapped then out of their trance, she slowly reached for her objects on the table.

She hooked her fingers around her belt and quietly slid it closer on the table; then, she picked the laser pointer out of it and stuck it into her mouth.

She carefully pointed it down at her handcuffs and pressed the on button with her tongue: a red, burning line shot from it and hit the metal part of the handcuffs.

The smell of burning metal rose along with a line of dark smoke and Driver struggled to keep her eyes open: the last thing she needed now was to accidentally sever off her own hands.

The pink plasma handcuffs around her wrists flickered and Driver pressed down on the button again: the burnt metal center fell in her lap, broken, and she was finally free.

She took that damn laser out of her mouth and took in a big breath; she gave a quick, anxious look at her captors: still safely hypnotized by the light.

Finally she put the belt in her lap; stuffed her communicator back into her pocket; picked her gun and aimed it at _Dib._

Her finger rested on the trigger, but she hesitated to press it.

On one hand, this was a literal monster who had attacked and damaged her ship, had captured her, almost cut her open, and still had every intention to cut her _boyfriend_ open too.

On the _other_ hand, this was also a clearly naive, misguided, traumatized _human child._ Did she really want to off him like that? All her life she had sworn off killing or harming children, under any circumstance. Then again, this kid appeared to be a legitimately dangerous threat that would not stop hunting her and Zim down so easily. Maybe if she just incapacitated him-

Suddenly, she noticed a movement in the right corner of her eye.

She turned her face to see the bounty hunter, dumbfounded, looking at her.

He blinked a couple times, still dazed from the hypnosis; then, their eyes met, and he broke from his trance.

He reached for the gun in his holster, but it was too late, as Driver switched her aim from Dib to him: she pulled the trigger, and a blue flash zapped into his chest, sending him flying backwards.

 _“WHA-?!”_ Dib jumped, startled, looking up from the locket’s light and directly at her.

_Alright. Time for the pressure kick. Oh, my poor wallet…_

Driver bent her knees up to her chest, charging the boots to the max, positioning the soles of her feet opposite to Dib.

Then, she _kicked,_ releasing the accumulated energy on right on the air in front of him: she and Dib, along with his throne, the table and her cape on it, were violently thrown opposite ways.

“Gyaaaah!” she heard the kid scream as they were both launched in the air.

Driver curled herself in a ball and used her arms to shield her head, bracing for the impact with the ground; when it happened, it wasn’t _too_ bad: just a series of hard thuds and bumps all over her body, that would for sure bruise the next day -as if she didn’t need ANY more pain to endure on that day. What was next, a lost tooth? _A black eye?_

Finally, her somersaults slowed down, until she found herself lying still on the floor.

She struggled to lift herself up on her elbows, and glanced over at her enemies: much to her surprise, they were also _both_ struggling to get up from the floor, the bounty hunter being still alive, with a large burning wound on his chest. Apparently, his damn fur was so thick not even her gun had done the trick...

 _“GET HER!”_ Dib shrilled, the legs of his throne sliding on the floor as they attempted to stand up again, “GO AND GET HER, _HURRY!”_

Alright, _that_ was her cue to get the hell out of there.

 _I’m so sorry, cool rogue cape,_ she regretfully bid the piece of clothing goodbye as she got on her feet and turned around to bolt out of the building.

Driver ran out of the same, open door she had come through, her gun in one hand and her belt in the other; the sunlight burnt her eyes, which had gotten used the factory’s darkness, but she pressed on at maximum speed anyway: if Dib got her now, he would have probably tortured her to death on sight.

She ran past a bunch of similarly abandoned, short, square buildings, dismayed that there was no place to climb on with her boots and hide -which, after that kick, probably had very little spare energy anyway.

As she ran, she suddenly came across a roadway: she had been so anxious and eager to get away from that terrifying place, she had barely noticed that she had gotten out of that abandoned industrial area and come to the deserted, open place which surrounded the metropolis.

She looked left and right for a possible way out, when she noticed a vehicle driving towards her and the city: a hovering, yellow car, that almost blended with the orange-tinted background, with the sign ‘TAXI’ on its top.

She stepped into the middle of the road and started jumping and waving her arms in the air to get the driver’s attention.

_“Taxi! Taxi, stop!”_

The cab stopped a few feet from her, and she immediately went for the passenger’s door; initially, the cab driver, a scrawny, friendly-looking guy with smooth, translucent yellow skin, politely tipped his working hat at her; but then, as she scrambled to get in the seat next to him, he paid her a puzzled look and advanced a courteous objection:

“Excuse me, lady, but you can’t sit here, the passengers ought to be- _OOOOH, I get it”_ he immediately lifted his hands up has she pointed her gun at his face, “It’s a robbery, isn’t it? I’ve only just started my shift so I’ve only got 50 monies, but please, take them”

“Uh-” Driver blinked at him, surprised by his calm demeanor, “No, man, I need you to drive me away from here as fast as possible”

“Aaahhh, so it’s an _escape situation._ Got that” the cab driver hit the gas pedal and took off towards the city.

“Are you, like… _used_ to this?” Driver asked, slowly lowering her gun.

“Believe it or not, this is the fifth time this month” the cab driver smiled, “I’ve been having one heck of a bad luck. It must be the third moon, it’s in retrograde, I’ve heard”

“Ah. Uh... sorry”

“It’s okay, they pay me extra whenever that happens. Who are we running away from, by the way?”

“Uh-”

Suddenly, the familiar, loud rumble an engine roared from behind them; Driver and the cabby both looked into the rear-view mirror: the bounty hunters’ leader was chasing them on his hovering motorcycle, the clothes on his chest burnt and ruined, his teeth gritted in a furious expression.

"YOU! STOP RIGHT NOW!" he screamed at them.

“Woah. That guy is scary” the cabby commented.

“Yeah I know. So accelerate and make sure we don’t get caught” Driver shook the gun near his face.

“Ooo-kay!” he happily agreed as he sped up the taxi.

Driver quickly picked her communicator up and called Zim: the line rang for what looked to her like an infinite time, but just as she thought he wouldn’t answer for whatever _horrible_ reason, she heard a click, as someone picked it up.

"Zim!” she yelled into the phone, “Zim, are you there?!"

  
  


  
  


_“Irken Zim!_ Are you in there?”, "Come out with your hands up!”, two voices ordered from the ship’s speakers.

Zim glared at the two bounty hunters, hovering on their motorcycles right outside of Driver’s ship; a small, weird, female rat-looking alien and a big, dumb-looking white… _thing._

He clenched his fists, looking between the two foes on the outside and the one on the inside, grinning down at him with a mocking smirk. So it was gonna be three on one, uh? Driver had been right, calling them the most _ignoble_ creatures in the universe.

 _“Never!"_ he shouted, his chest proudly puffed out, "You'll never catch me alive! I’ll never give up! And I won’t go down without a fight! Now prepare! I’m going to- _EEEP!”_

Two lasers shot from the motorcycle's front lights, hitting Driver's ship.

“Hey, stop that!" Zim protested, "I was _talking!”_

The big guy turned to his companion with an unsure expression.

“He _was_ talking, Sash...”

“Who cares! _Shut up!"_ the small one shrieked, _"Get out of there already, or we’ll blow you up!”_

 _"There’s no place for you to run to"_ the Blob's cold voice mocked him from behind "You’re surrounded. Your _girlfriend_ has been captured. You should just surrender now, before you get _really_ hurt. We might even go a little _easier_ on you both. Don’t you wanna see her again?”

Zim gritted his teeth, a low growl rising from his throat. If that Blob was telling the truth, and there was a high chance that he was, he needed to find Driver and save her as soon as possible. Who knows what they were doing to her at that point?

"I’m not running! Invaders don’t run, fools!" Zim took out his guns out of his PAK and aimed them at the intruder, “Now tell me where Driver is, or you're dead!"

And with that, he fired three warning shots right at the Blob's face; but his cocky expression didn’t even flinch: the laser bullets simply passed through his gelatinous body, without inflicting any real damage, and the little holes immediately filled with new blue jelly, like he’d never been shot to begin with.

“I wonder how you’re gonna make it happen, without your girlfriend’s weird gun” the Blob gloated.

“I-AAH!” Zim yelped as the enemies on the outside shot the ship again. “Stop hitting Driver’s ship! It’s unfair, you’re three against one! At least take turns, you cowards!”

“It doesn’t seem like he’s gonna come out on his own” the small one growled.

“I think it’s better if you do it, Blob” the big one advised.

“With pleasure” the Blob’s creepy smirk widened, _“I’m gonna have fun with this one”_

The Blob let himself fall face first down on the floor; his body hit it with a disgusting ‘SHAFF’ sound, collecting into a pulsing puddle, and spraying drops of its blue jelly all over the place.

"Eeeeughughguuhhh! Stop it!” Zim shrieked “Stop it! Stop spreading your filthy body on Driver’s ship! Do you have any idea how difficult it’s going to be to convince her to clean this place _without_ my help?!"

“Oh, I’m afraid she’s _never_ going to step into this ship again” the Blob chuckled, his body gathering again to form his usual, taller form, “Before _selling_ her to the police, I’m going to set this thing on fire right before her eyes...”

The Blob slowly crept towards Zim, and he recoiled back against the panel control.

“… and I’m going to enjoy _every_ moment of it...”

Zim glared at him, trying to hide his fear before the approaching enemy.

He needed think of a way to get rid of that blob, and fast. What were blobs’ weaknesses that he could reasonably exploit? Nuclear weapons? Heat? Electrocution? And, of course...

 _“Fire!”_ Zim exclaimed.

He turned to his left and opened a little door under the panel control: Driver's stash of alcohol, where she’d hidden the stolen bottles from the Flordian supermarket.

“Hey, what are you doing?!” he heard the Blob bark behind him, hastening his slippery strides towards him.

Zim sharply turned against his opponent, holding the makeshift weapon up in a triumphant pose; smirking at the now wide-eyed, terrified Blob, he used one of his legs’ laser to light up the piece of paper shoved inside the bottle’s neck.

"Let's see how well you fare against the power of a molotov!" he yelled.

“No!” the Blob put up two tentacles defensively.

Zim threw the bottle at him, and he narrowly evaded it: the glass bottle crashed on the floor between them, the burning alcohol spreading in a bright red flame.

"AAAH! WHAT DID YOU DO?!?" the Blob shrieked in terror, retreating into the ship’s back corridor.

"Just setting you on fire! Hahaha!” Zim laughed, “Ironic isn’t it? A bar-drone, burned to death by alcohol! You should thank me! _It’s the death you deserve!"_

 _"You set the ship on fire!"_ the Blob shouted at him behind that wall of fire.

“He set the ship on fire?!” the small alien yelled in a shrill voice.

"Yessss! The ship your slimy little friend is in! And _you’re_ next! Mwahahaha!" Zim gloated, laughing with his face up.

"But that’s your ship!” the big one retorted, _“And you're in it too!"_

 _"VICTORY FOR ZIIIIM!!!"_ he thundered over their stupid voices.

Now that that had been taken care of, he could finally turn the ship around.

And fight the other two enemies with the ship.

And then rescue Driver with the ship.

All with Driver’s ship.

The ship he was standing in right now.

The ship that was on fire.

  
  


… wait-

"THE SHIP IS ON FIIIIIREEE!” he screamed in absolute terror, _“NO NO NOOOO!"_

“What the heck, man!”, “Why would you do that?!” the two bounty hunters asked, incredulous.

“AAAAH! You idiot! _Heeelp!”_ the Blob flailed his gelatinous arms up in panic.

“No no no! Stop burning! _Driver’s gonna kill me!”_ Zim frantically stepped on the fire, in a similar display of panic; but there was nothing his little foot could do against such a widespread fire, which took up almost the entire middle section of the control room’s floor.

“Just get out you two!” the small bounty hunter yelled.

“NO!” Zim glared back at the enemy, guessing their clever plan to smoke (fire?) him out of his own ship, “You’ll _never_ have me!”

He jumped on the pilot seat, turned the ship on, and took off in the air, soaring over the two bounty hunters.

“Why did you do that?!”, “How’s that of any help?!”, _“BRING US BACK DOWN, YOU MORON! WE’RE GOING TO BURN ALIVE!”_ the three enemies shouted at him all at once.

 _“SHUT UP! Leave me alone!”_ Zim silenced their nagging yaps, his panic rising and his heart pounding louder in his chest, as the room behind his got hotter and hotter; in front of him, the sight of the city and the sky moving down as the ship ascended made him almost nauseous, and he had to look away.

“Ah, uh- uhhh, y- you!” he pointed at the Blob, “Go get some water, and put the fire out!”

“WHAT?!” the Blob screamed, outraged. “I’m NOT taking orders from-”

“Get the water, Blob!”, “We need to catch him _alive,_ remember?!” the Blob’s companions shouted through the speaker.

“O-okay, I-” the Blob looked left and right, looking for a possible water source.

“There’s a bucket in the bathroom’s cabinet!” Zim gestured to one of the doors to the Blob’s right, “Fill it with the shower head! And don’t touch the shower’s floor, I don’t want you to give Driver any _warts!”_

“I HATE YOU SO MUCH!” the Blob bolted inside the bathroom to follow his orders.

Then, all of a sudden, Zim’s communicator rang; he took it out of his PAK, and saw ‘DRIVER’ written on the screen.

“Oh, no! It’s her! _She’s calling me!”_ Zim held the communicator away from his mouth, as if she could hear him if it were any nearer, even without picking the call up.

“What do I do?! When she finds I let a blob set fire to her ship, she’ll freak out! She might even blame ME!”

“You shouldn’t lie to your girlfriend about your shortcomings. That’s how unhealthy patterns take root in a relationship” the big one’s voice advised him from the speaker.

“Yeah! Just be vague and stall for time, you’ll think of an excuse after you’ve put out the fire!” the small one echoed.

“Okay, okay, right!” Zim nodded, reassured by their encouragements, “I’m gonna answer now!”

“Hey, wait a second, they’re letting her call him?!” the small one asked.

“Maybe the boss felt… charitable? Somehow?” the big one dubiously suggested.

“Here I go!” Zim picked the ‘pick up’ option.

 _“Zim! Zim, are you there?!”_ Driver’s panicked voice called for him from the communicator, and that alone was enough to warm his heart: thank Irk, she seemed to be okay!

But before he could answer, he was distracted by the sound of a door sliding open: he looked up to see the Blob, reemerging from the bathroom with a bucket full of spilling water in his tentacles. Then, his eyes fixed on something behind him, and his expression turned from annoyance to _terror._

“BE CAREFUL! BUILDING! BUILDIIING!” he screamed, his trembling motions spilling the water everywhere.

“WHAT ARE YOU TWO DOING?!”, “MOVE! MOVE AWAY!”, the two voices loudly screamed.

Zim turned back around, at the windshield, and for a moment his heart stopped in his chest, as he watched a fast-approaching building at nothing but a few feet from the ship.

“AAAAAHHHH!” the communicator fell from his hands, as he scrambled to reach for the steering wheel, “WHO PUT THAT THEEEE-”

  
  


  
  


“-EEEEERE?!”

 _“Hello? Hello? Zim?! Hello?!”_ Driver called, alarmed by his sudden shouting.

BOOM.

She and the cabby turned to their right to the loud sound of an explosion: in the distance, a smoky mass of rubble erupted from the side of a tall building. Then, an object broke through the wall on the other side. And it hit the building next to the first one. And emerged from the other side, causing its top to collapse. And so on and so forth, with another three buildings.

Driver's eyes couldn't make out the far object, but she instantly knew that those were the buildings mentioned in the call, and that it was her ship that was going through them. Her poor, _poor_ ship.

“Follow those explosions!" she instructed the cabby, "That's where my ship is!"

“Alright, and-Ah!”

The taxi jerked, making them both shake in their seats, as something hit it from behind.

Driver looked back at their pursuer, completely astounded: even though they were now flying between the lines of vehicles suspended inside the city, with hundreds of civilians driving and _living_ around them, that crazy bounty hunter was _still_ shooting at them, in _plain sight,_ chasing them at a crazy speed.

"Damn! That motorcycle can really pack some hits! Good thing that all the taxis in this city are converted mini-tanks from the War!" the cabby cheerfully explained to her, talking casually as if the taxi had simply run over a bump on the road.

"Uh. How convenient" Driver murmured, opening the window on her side.

"HEEEYYY!" she shouted at the bounty hunter, "I have a hostage here! His name is, uh-"

"Philip!" the cabby suggested her.

 _"Philip!_ And he has three children! So stop shooting us! Do you wanna kill him?!"

“I do!" Philip echoed from the other window, "Don’t kill me! _For my children!”_

“… you do?" Driver asked him.

“No, but I wanna live!”

The bounty hunter drew his gun out of its holster and pointed it right at Driver's head.

She withdrew it just in time before the bullet hit the rear window.

 _"Stop that taxi, or I'll make it crash with you in it!"_ he angrily screamed at them.

"Goddamn motherf-" Driver took her own gun and leaned out of the window to shoot at him.

She shot three times in a rows, but the bounty hunter skillfully evaded each hit swaying his motorcycle left and right. All around her, vehicles darted past them in all directions, ringing their honks at them as they either flew dangerously close to them, or inadvertently shot them.

She was about to shoot the enemy in the head, and she was sure that she would have hit him too, when she saw a _dark ship_ flying above her.

She initially mistook it for Zim’s Voot Cruiser, but then, saw _who_ was piloting it, her blood froze in her veins.

_So that 'throne' was a ship. An Irken ship. How could I not notice-_

Dib launched himself on the taxi’s roof, producing a terrifying sound and shaking in the process, the legs of the ship clenching the vehicle on either side in their grasp; if that hadn't been a modified tank, they would have surely crumpled it up like a piece of paper.

 _“AAAAH! What’s happening?!”_ Philip shrieked, sounding genuinely scared for the first time.

 _“Come out of there!"_ Dib intimated above them.

Just as Driver looked up, his black tentacles pierced the roof of the taxi, their pointed tips as sharp as knives.

Then, they bent, returning to their flexible, serpentine forms, and wiggled around inside the vehicle, as if they were trying to find her by touch, all the while producing a chilling rattling sound.

 _“A monster! It's a MONSTER!”_ Philip screamed, terrified out of his mind, the taxi adopting a zigzag stride as he lost control of the vehicle.

Driver shivered as a tentacle brushed against her arm, shrinking as much as she could in the corner of her seat.

 _“You’ll regret making a fool out of me!”_ Dib screamed, and it sounded like something between a human's voice and an _animal's growl._

 _“Stop it, kid!"_ Driver warned him, pointing her laser pointer at his tentacles, "Stop it, before you get hur-”

The cab jerked again as the bounty hunter shot it with his motorcycle; the tentacles tickled Philip's nape, who at this point was practically _sobbing_ from the terror, and barely looking at the road, the taxi swaying so much to the left that it almost colluded with a car passing in the opposite direction.

_This is hell. I'm in hell and this kid is my personal torturing devil._

Driver turned the laser pointer on and shot it up, at the bases of the tentacles; they emitted little shrieks of pain, but it evidently wasn't enough to seriously injure them: instead, they bolted towards her, passing around her neck, her head, her face, and then _pulling up._

"AAAAAH!" she screamed, her head painfully bumping on the taxi's roof.

"LET GO! LET ME GO, YOUAAAGHRGH!" she furiously thrashed under the tentacles' strong, painful grip: one was under her chin, one on her nose, one on her forehead and around her hair; in multiple points on her face, she felt burning stings, as though her skin was being _pierced._

Yet, in that chaotic inferno, she felt the taxi decelerating; she shot a glance at Philip, and saw that the tentacles were attacking him too, though not with the same fury as with her.

 _"I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry, please don't kill me! I have three- six! Six childreeen!!!"_ he begged Dib for mercy as he slowed down the taxi's speed.

If he stops, they'll probably spare him. _You and Zim, on the other hand-_

 _"ENOOOOUGH!"_ she screamed at the top of her lungs.

Putting all of her strength into it, she managed to move her head up enough to have a tentacle in front of her mouth; and then, she bit on it as hard as she could.

"HYAAA!" Dib shrieked in pain, and the grip on her weakened all at once.

 _Blood._ She didn't think those tentacles were made of meat -almost _surely_ they weren't- but what she was tasting was definitely _blood._ _Good._

Driver moved her head left and right, clenching her jaw and gnawing with her teeth through the 'flesh' of the tentacle.

"YOU'RE BITING ME! YOU'RE BITING ME!!! WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU?!?" Dib screamed, and she bit on him even harder, shaking her head like a mauling dog.

Finally, Dib got the message and the tentacles left her head.

Driver spat that last, wounded appendage away, and glared at Philip to her left. He shrunk under her stare, like there was a rabid animal sitting beside him, and you know what? To be fair, that wasn't all _untrue:_ she really felt like her head could _explode_ from all the anger she felt at the moment.

"I"

Driver slapped a hand on the wheel.

"JUST"

She scooped to the left, a thigh on Philip's leg, feeling the pedals under her foot.

"WANTED TO GIVE MY BOYFRIEND A HANDJOB!”

She took a sharp turn to the left, cutting through a lane of cars; then, she pressed all down on the gas pedal, pointing the car towards a narrow alley between two buildings.

"NO! DON'T!" Dib's tentacles scrambled around the taxi to try and stop her, slapping against her body.

Another tentacle passed near her mouth, and she attempted to bite it, feeling it under her teeth for a second.

Dib's feeble attempts didn't deter her though, and she confidently plunged the taxi inside the alley.

 _"NYAAAAAOOOOOOO!!!!"_ as per her calculations, that narrow space wasn't enough to accommodate Dib and his ship: its sides crashed against the two buildings' corners, and Dib was thrown behind and off the taxi, ripping its roof off with his tentacles as he fell backwards.

 _Even his screams sound petulant_ , Driver commented.

Something that she hadn't calculated, though, is that the taxi was _barely_ fit for the alley too: its sides screeched and grated against the buildings, leaving a trail of sparkles behind them.

"Woooh! I can't l- I can't believe that, hahaha!" Philip let out a laughter between the hysterical and the exhilarated, "We're alive! You _saved_ me! I can't believe this is happening! Where did you learn how to drive like that?!?"

Driver set herself back in her seat. She sputtered in her hand, trying to rid herself of the taste of blood; she looked down, and noticed that that blood was _black._

Disgusted, she discretely wiped her palm under her seat.

"Anytime, Phil. First rule of driving: never give up during a chase where a monster is on your roof"

The rumble of a familiar engine distracted her from that pleasant exchange: as she'd imagined, the bounty hunter was persisting in his chase inside that long alleyway, right behind the pretty sparkle's of their trail.

Driver got up on her knees on the seat and emerged from the now roof-less taxi, the wind blowing on the back of her head, the sparkles spraying from both sides, her gun out and aimed at her foe.

_“Bring it on, you dirtbag! This time I'll make sure the bullet comes through the other side!"_

The bounty hunter gritted his teeth at her in a furious expression, his gun raised up back at her while he directed the motorcycle with the other.

Suddenly, the communicator that she'd left between her knees started ringing.

“Take the call, Phil!" she ordered, careful to keep her eyes on he enemy's gun.

Phil leaned to pick her communicator, and she heard him answer the call with an enthusiastic:

“WOOOH! THIS IS THE MOST ALIVE I’VE FELT IN AGES!”

  
  


  
  


_“Uhhuhh...”_ Zim groaned, hanging by his hands from the steering wheel; _thankfully,_ there didn’t seem to be any more buildings in the ship’s path.

He slowly got up on shaky legs, adrenaline still pumping through his veins; really, it was a miracle that he’d managed to hold onto the wheel through all those impacts and shakes.

But before he could look out the windshield and assess the situation, _something_ clutched his waist.

“WHA-”, that _something_ pulled him back and onto the floor; the back of his head flared with pain at the impact, and he involuntarily exhaled all the air in his spooch.

He looked up, eyes full of tears, and saw the Blob, towering above him, his left tentacle pinning him down, while the other worked at the ship’s controls.

 _“N-nooo...”_ Zim weakly squirmed under his grasp, trying to push away the tentacle around his waist, “Stop, don’t touch-”

The tentacle pulled him back up, only to violently slam him back to the ground.

“You IDIOT!” the Blob barked at him, “We almost died because of you! _This ends now!”_

Zim felt the ship stop in the air; he wiped his eyes from the tears, and looked up, behind him: the Blob had managed to partially put out the fire, and the hatch in the floor that lead to his Cruiser was now accessible again. At this point, he seriously needed to consider _escaping_ Driver’s ship. Provided that he freed himself from the Blob’s grasp, that is…

“Good job, Blob! Glad you’re still alive!”, “Now open the hatch and let us in!” the other two bounty hunters cheered on their companion.

The Blob glared down at him, his furious expression now devoid of any derision.

"I know I promised to bring you back alive, but... I don’t think I can pass the opportunity to _digest_ you alive...”

“No, Blob!” the small bounty hunter intimated, “I know he’s very killable, but restrain yourself!”

“Yeah!” the big one echoed, “Digesting people is _barbaric!_ Let’s just bring him back to the base, where he’ll be fairly _dissected!”_

“But, like, a broken bone or two shouldn’t be a problem, haha!”

“Nnnnghh!” Zim flailed his legs and arms around. Why was it always vivisection with his enemies?!

“Wait. I have an idea” the Blob leaned to the right to pick something up; when he stood up, Zim could see him holding his communicator.

 _“Why don’t we give your girlfriend a call?”_ he grinned, “Whether she’s still imprisoned or she’s set herself free, I’m sure she’ll be happy to have an update on you”

“No! No!” Zim whined, “I can’t have her know you crashed her ship into buildings!”

The Blob didn’t listen to his pleads; he dialed on his communicator, and put it on speakerphone; it rang three or four times, before someone picked the call up.

“WOOOH! THIS IS THE MOST ALIVE I’VE FELT IN AGES!” a distinctly _male_ voice shouted from it.

Zim and the Blob shared a perplexed look.

 _“Who are you?!”_ they asked in unison.

“I am Philip!” the voice replied.

“Why are you answering Driver’s phone?!” Zim asked.

“Yes, I am a taxi driver!”

“Where did you get this phone?!” the Blob pressed him.

“Oh, it belongs to this lady I’m driving!”

“Driver?! _Driver is there?!”_ Zim asked, elated to hear that she’d actually managed to escape.

“Yeah, I’m the driver!”

“No you MORON, the girl! _The ape girl!”_ the Blob impatiently shouted into the communicator.

“Pass me Driver, taxi-drone!” Zim yelled, “Tell her ZiM is calling!”

“Ohhh, so her name is ‘Driver’! And _you_ are the handjob guy!”

“I’m the what guy now-”

 _“Aaahh, that’s disgusting, yuck!”_ the Blob winced away from the phone, gagging.

“I don’t think she can talk now. She’s real focused on having a shooting duel with this crazy guy on a motorcycle-”

“Well, _tell her_ we have her boyfriend and that unless she surrenders we’re going to break every bone in his body!” the Blob threatened.

“Wait wait wait wait wait” Zim waved his hands up, “Did _you_ save her?! That’s unfair! I’ve been working so hard to come and save her, and a random taxi-drone named _Phellip_ comes in and does it before _I_ do!”

“Well, actually-” Phellip tried to muster up an excuse, but he was interrupted:

 _“Is anyone gonna tell us what’s going on inside that ship?!”,_ the small bounty hunter called from the speaker.

“I think they just caught that human cheating on the Irken with a taxi driver” the big one insinuated.

“NO!” Zim shouted, terrified and enraged at once at that prospect, “I WON’T BE CHEATED ON! DON’T YOU DARE DRIVE MY SQUINTZ-PARTNER!”

“Squintz- _is that a word for ‘fuc-”_

Zim left the Blob no time to continue: he drew out his PAK’s legs, and in one fell, unexpected swoop, he knocked his eyes out, sending them to bounce away on the panel control and on the floor, in opposite directions.

“AAAAH! MY EYES! YOU KNOCKED OFF MY EYES, YOU LITTLE-” the Blob immediately went into panic, his eyeless face darting left and right, seemingly undecided on which eye to go after first.

Zim used his lasers to burn and melt the gelatinous tentacle around his waist, thus setting himself free, and he immediately went for the hatch in the floor; after closing the door behind him, he bolted down the dark, underground corridor, to the cabin where his Voot Cruiser was. Above him, he heard the bumps from the Blob, furiously tumbling around to retrieve his eyes.

Zim set himself inside the Cruiser, readying it for take off. Right now the plan was to find Driver and help her against that ‘crazy motorcycle guy’: he was _not_ gonna be bested by a lousy taxi-drone! And whatever happened to her ship, he would simply blame it on the bounty hunters.

As soon as the cell’s outer door opened, Zim jumped at full speed out of Driver’s ship; something that immediately regretted, because in his path was the small, rat-looking bounty hunter on her motorcycle.

She turned to him and shouted a chocked _“WHAT-”,_ but it was already too late for either of them to avoid the impact: Zim crashed right into her motorcycle, sending her flying against a nearby building; as the motorcycle bounced off it, the small alien got unseated from her vehicle, and they both plummeted down to the ground.

“SASHAAAAA!!!” the big one let out a desperate scream.

 _“Aaaaarhgghrgrhghrgh!”_ were the supposed last words of the small one as she fell down to her doom- probably, at least. Zim was too busy twirling with the Cruiser in the air, and didn’t bother checking.

“Aaaah! Aaah, uhhh, errr… take… take that, you! I wanted to do exactly that, HA! I WIN!” he gloated as he slowly gained back control of the Cruiser.

 _"I'M COMING FOR YOU, SASH!!!"_ the big guy ignored him, and plummeted down to follow his fallen companion.

Zim stared down for a while, sure that at any second he would fly up again to continue their fight. But he never did. _Neither_ of them did.

"Uhm..." Zim awkwardly looked around, "I really won? _Just like that?_ Oh, well. I AM AMAZING! I suppose. Now to find Driver and that wretched taxi-drone..."

Having announced his victory, Zim steered the Voot Cruiser away from Driver’s ship, and began his search for her.

  
  


  
A laser bullet landed on the taxi's structure, right next to Driver, and she took cover crouching down on her seat. Drat. That motorcycle allowed the bounty hunter to easily evade her shots. How was she going to hit him?

“Phil, who was it on the phone?!” she asked Philip, who had just put her communicator down.

“It was that Zim!" he answered. "Your, uh... 'squintz'... something? There was another guy with him! He said they're gonna hurt him unless you surrender!"

Driver turned to him with widened eyes.

“'Hurt him'?! Hurt him how?!”

"Uhhhh-" he hesitated to answer, but continued as he saw the expression in her eyes: "So... something about breaking his bones? But I wouldn't worry if I were you, I'm sure he's fine!"

Driver looked to her right and at the sky: they were finally under the ruined buildings, with swerves of people running in and out of them; but, at least from there, she couldn't see her ship or the bounty hunters anywhere.

The thought of Zim possibly being tortured at the time being filled her with the utmost fury and _dread._

“Philip. I’ll be driving now. Switch places with me" she ordered.

Philip awkwardly slipped behind her and onto her seat as she sat in his place. Once she got all set, she steered the taxi down, until she reached the city's ground; the pedestrians stared and yelled at them as they sped past them well over the speed limits.

Driver put her head out of the window and yelled back at her pursuer:

_"Tell your lackeys to let Zim go! He has no bounty on him! Leave him alone!"_

The bounty hunter shot the taxi again.

 _"You get off that cab now, or I swear I'll have them cut all his limbs off!"_ he yelled, and his voice sounded more enthusiastic than angry.

"Woah. These guys are _perverse,_ aren't they?" Phil commented.

"Stole the words out of my mouth, Phil..."

Driver took a smoke bomb from her belt and passed it to Philip.

"When I say 'now', take the fuse off and throw it at him"

“Well, geez, alright, but-” he rolled the bomb in his hands, uncertain, “won’t this kill him? I don't wanna-”

“Oh, no. It's just a smoke bomb" she reassured him, _"I’ll_ be taking care of killing him...”

The bounty hunter shot the cab again, and this time, after having sustained so many shots, the back window finally cracked. Driver slowed down the taxi, allowing the bounty hunter to get closer. Phil anxiously looked at her, his body turned back to their pursuer.

“Uh- Driver, I don’t think we-”

 _“Get ready, Phil._ Throw it right in front of him, don’t let him evade it!” she ordered.

Another shot aimed at the back window, which managed to shatter it onto the back seats; Phil let out a frightened yelp, hiding from the glass shards behind the seat.

Closer, closer, closer. The bounty hunter shot his gun, and the laser bullet flew through the hole in the back, hitting the windshield.

_Alright. If this doesn't work, I'm dead._

“NOW!” she yelled.

From his scared behavior, Driver had seriously worried that he wouldn't be able to follow her instructions; however, Phil obediently executed all of them: he took the fuse out of the bomb, lifted himself up over the roof and threw it behind the taxi.

Driver abruptly hit the brake, slowing the taxi down dramatically in a matter of seconds; behind them, the bomb exploded in a cloud of dark smoke, a few feet in front of the bounty hunter, who drove right into it, letting out a surprised shout.

With the taxi almost completely still, Driver quickly jumped with her feet on her seat; she hugged Philip by the waist, and jumped up with her gravity boots, spending nearly all their leftover charge.

Driver and Philip lightly flew up in the air, in the opposite way from their original direction, and under them, the motorcycle briefly came out from the smoke only to violently collide with the taxi and _explode._

BOOM. The taxi, the motorcycle and its _driver_ disappeared in a mass of bright, yellow _fire._

 _Goodbye, Sleazebag. Hope you enjoy your stay in Hell,_ Driver smirked as she watched the fire.

"Woooahhh" Phil gasped, "You're the most fun passenger who's ever abducted me! They're going to raise my pay _so much!"_

"I'm glad to hear that, Philip" Driver breathed out. She had been about half convinced that she'd fluke that move and end up killed. So, good: _one thing_ that hadn't gone horribly wrong that day.

Driver and Philip gracefully floated back to the road, where they collected themselves and turned to watch the two vehicles burning.

"Sorry about the taxi, man. You really saved me there" she apologized.

“Don't mention it. You know, when I saw that gun I thought you were just a run of the mill criminal, but you're actually a good person! Anyone else would have left me to _die_ with that _mustache man!"_

"Heh... if only more people thought that of me" she chuckled, "Everyone today just assumed I was a _monster,_ especially that kid-"  
  
Suddenly, something _big and fast_ landed right behind her, the air all around her shifting, her hair flying in her face from the back. Philip recoiled with a terrified _"Aaaah!",_ while a _whiny, childish_ voice mixed with a _terrifying, primal_ growl spoke to her:

_"I have you now"_

_Oh, crap. How did I forget about him?“_

Driver turned to point her gun at Dib, but his tentacles easily slapped it away from her hand before she could shoot. She jumped back, trying to get away from him: he looked bruised and hurt, both him _and_ his ship (from the fall she had caused, for sure), not to mention absolutely _furious,_ his savage, mismatched eyes attentively following her.

"Wait, no-" a tentacle slipped between her legs and tripped her, making her fall backwards on the pavement.

 _"What's that, uh?!"_ he taunted her, _"Finally out of tricks?!"_

"Wait!” she pleaded, arms up to protect herself, "Please, let me explain-"

The ship's pointed legs fell heavy right in front of her, breaking the cement under them in a display of strength, and carrying Dib closer to her.

 _"I'm done with Zim and his minions getting in my way!"_ he spat, and out of the ship's sides came four cannons aimed straight at her, "I gave you so many chances to _redeem_ yourself, and you blew them all up! Uh- funny, what's that that you'd told me? _'Blow me'?_ Well, guess what?! I guess _I_ will be blowing _you_ out! _Out of my sight!"_

"Aaaahhh, kid" she cringed, "Please, don't tell around that I taught you that word. It also doesn't mean what you think it m-"

 _"SHUT UP!_ SHUT. YOUR. MOUTH!!!" he roared, his tentacles hissing and contorting around his head.

Driver looked around her for a possible way out, when a movement to her left, accompanied by a series of crumbling and metallic sounds, caught her attention: she looked up, to see the top of one of the buildings that her ship had hit.

Collapsing.

About to fall down on Dib's head.

"Dib" she quietly said, pointing at the sky above him, "I think a building is about to fall on your head”

“Ha!" he scoffed, "As if I’d ever fall for the _old_ dumb trick of a _building falling on my head!_ A _liar_ through and through! Zim would be _so proud_ if he-”

Driver watched with awe as the building fell on Dib's head.

The huge wall of cement and metal and glass fell on the road right in front of her with a terrifying thunder; respite being a mere foot apart, the building perfectly squashed him and him alone, leaving her completely unscathed. Driver closed her eyes and held her breath as dust and debris flew in the air around the impact.

Then, when the stream of air lost in strength, she slowly opened her eyes, to see that the ground under the fallen building, too, was collapsing under all that weight; she clumsily got up to her feet, as the earth shook and crumbled, the building slowly but steadily sinking underground inside a huge chasm.

She was just about to turn around and run, when a leg of Dib's ship broke out from the debris, hooking itself on the edge of the hole.

Driver gasped and watched as the ship slowly climbed through the ruins, shooting and kicking and digging its way through. When Dib finally reemerged from the earth, she could see that he was injured: he was coughing, eyes squinted shut behind his cracked glasses, a line of blood _(red_ blood, this time) streaming down his face.

"Uhhh..." she heard him moan in pain.

In a surge of compassion for the injured kid, Driver stepped forth to grab him by his arms and pull him out of the ship's cabin, mere moments before the ground finally gave in and swallowed what was left of the building, along with his ship.

Driver dragged him back at a safe distance; then she flipped him over on the floor and anxiously checked on him: Dib let out a pained groan and slowly fluttered his eyes back open.

“Oh, thank God you're okay, kid!" she sighed in relief, "Don't worry, I'm here to help you! Now I- AH!”

His foot shot up and kicked her in the face, right into her left cheek and eye, pushing her backwards.

“Aaaah! Owww, ow!” Driver curled on the ground, hand pressed against her face, her eye and cheek pulsing with white hot pain.

How absurd, that after all the ridiculously dangerous experiences she’d gone through that day, a single, simple kick had been the one thing to send her writhing in pain on the ground?

She spied between her fingers, and saw Dib struggling to get up.

And as she looked at him, the confusion and surprise turned to _rage._

 _“Aaahhh… yyyouuu…”_ she growled rolling back on her feet.

Dib noticed her expression, and for the first time since she’d first met him she saw _fear_ on his face. He recoiled on the ground, using his elbows.

 _“This is all your fault...”_ she hissed, walking towards him, fists threateningly clenched at her sides and back bent forward.

“W-wait, lady, I-” he stammered, a trembling hand rising to protect himself.

“C-calm down, you- heh” he nervously chuckled, “you wouldn’t hit a kid with _glasses,_ would you?”

Driver widened her eyes at him, a corner of her mouth trembling; that fake innocence, coupled with the pulsing soreness in her face, and her mental, emotional, and physical _exhaustion,_ sent her in a blind fit of rage:

 _“YOU LITTLE BASTARD!”_ she screamed as she threw herself onto him and punched him in the face.

“NYAH!” Dib’s head hit the floor, his glasses flying off his face.

Barely aware of her actions, Driver repeatedly punched him, alternating between her fists, all the while yelling out her frustrations:

 _“After I spared you! After I saved you! What did I even do to you?!? Hack my ship kidnap me grope me and thechasingandtaxiandkickingthehandjobandtheaaaaaAAAAARRRGH!”_ her screaming gradually devolved into blabber as she punched him harder and harder.

“Driver, STOP!” Phil’s voice called to her, _“What are you doing?!”_

Driver immediately stopped her hurling fists, as if she’d just been pulled back into reality. She noticed, then, that she was _panting,_ and that she’d been sweating profusely.

 _“Uhhh… urhhhhh… Ziiim...”_ an incoherent voice moaned under her.

She looked down, to see Dib, now _effectively_ unconscious, breathing heavily, his face a bloody, bruised mess. And her numb knuckles, dirty with his blood.

 _“You just punched a kid into unconsciousness!”_ Phil exclaimed in horror.

She looked at him, and he returned her gaze with a look full of fear and disappointment.

“I… did? I- uhm. Oh. _Oh, man”_ she got up, and scratched her head in embarrassment.

“I’m sorry you had to see that, Philip” she apologized. “In my defense… he had it coming. _A lot”_

Philip shook his head in disapproval.

“I don’t think I can ever justify _child abuse._ Even if you’re kinda cool”

“Well, uh… you know, that’s fair” she nodded. “I too thought I was above it, but… I guess you never fully know yourself”

“‘It’ being _‘beating children’?”_

“... yeah...” she murmured.

She looked down at Dib, writhing in pain on the pavement, and found herself unable to feel sorry for him, after all that he’d put her through. If anything, she felt _relief:_ at least for now, the fight was finally _over._

Her left eye, she noted, was slowly becoming harder and harder to keep fully open, and she felt the skin around it swelling: she _was_ probably going to get a black eye. Great.

“Well, Philip” she straightened her back, “You’ve been a fine, loyal hostage. I really hope we can meet under better circumstances in the future”

Philip slowly shook his head, a sad look on his face.

“I think it’s better if we never meet again. But it was fun while it lasted”

Driver stared at him for a moment. Was this… all part of her imagination, somehow? This was too surreal and wacky to be real, right? Had she finally gone mad after living among monstrous aliens for so long?

“Maybe you’re right. Uh. Bye, Philip”

And with that, she turned away and ran; she picked up her gun, which Dib had slapped away, from the ground; she used her boots to jump on the roof of a nearby building and disappeared from the scene.

She didn’t notice it, but behind her, Philip raised a hand and waved her goodbye, with tears glimmering in his eyes.

  
  


  
  


Zim flew in circles over the city, growing more and more anxious: no matter how much he tried, he _couldn’t find Driver._ That was such a _huge_ city; and there were police cars and ambulances _everywhere,_ which he was trying to avoid: as his Invader training wisely instructed, alien authorities were to be avoided as much as possible.

And besides that, he had no clue where she was, or where to look for her. Maybe it was time he accepted that he wouldn’t ever find her again. That she’d ran off with that taxi-drone and left him there.

Zim nervously bit his lip.

Well... was it really such a big deal? He had spent _centuries_ without a ‘partner’, doing just fine. And _she_ was just a human. Maybe next time, he’d find a better partner that _didn’t_ run off with the first taxi-drone who saved them-

Then suddenly, he _saw_ her: on a building under him, toddling on her awesome boots from roof from roof, looking around her, presumably _for him._

His heart immediately filled with the biggest, purest relief and joy. Truly, he didn’t recall having ever felt so happy to see someone: it almost brought _tears_ to his eyes.

He rolled down the Voot Cruiser’s windshield and called to her:

_“DRIVEEEER! HEEEEY! I’M HERE! ZIM! I’M HERE! LOOK UP, DRIIIVEEEER!”_

Driver looked up in his direction, and a big smile brightened her face, a sentiment very similar to his own filling her chest.

“ZIIIM!” she waved her arms at him. _“Come to me, baby!”_

He launched the Voot Cruiser down in a crazy descent and almost _crashed_ it as he landed on the building’s roof.

Driver ran to the landing point and as soon as the Cruiser was stable on the floor, Driver knelt in front of him and opened her arms. Zim jumped down out of his ship and she closed him in a tight, warm hug.

“Oh, Zim! _You're okay!_ I thought you had been captured! You aren't hurt, are you?!" she briefly held him back by the shoulders, looking for any possible injury -specifically, any _broken bones._

"I'm alright, Dri-"

Driver squeezed him again, pulling his head over her shoulder.

 _"I was so, so worried"_ she let out in a trembling, choked out voice. Her arms held him tight against her body, and he could feel her heart pounding hard in her chest. Her arms started to lightly move, gently lulling him in her embrace. _"I thought I'd never see you again..."_

Zim listened to her heavy, shaky breath. For a moment, he wasn't able to come up with a response: Driver was always so _open,_ so _physical_ with her shows of affection, and so, _so intense,_ it often left him at a loss of words, and _actions._

He took a deep breath, allowing himself to relish in that moment, trying to banish, as much as he could, his intrusive, conscious thoughts.

He tentatively returned her hug, feeling the arc of her back under his palms. He found that he, too, felt something that was probably very similar to her relief: feeling the warmth, and shape, and weight of her body, _concrete, safe,_ and _sound_ in front of him, cured him of all the anxiety and worry he'd felt up until that moment. It filled him with so much... good... sweet... giddy... _juices._

He tightened his embrace, his hands touching behind her back, and finally spoke:

"I was worried too, Driver. Are you ok?"

"I'm fine" she nodded against his head, "now that you're here"

"Heh" he chuckled, his cheeks blushing. He pulled back from her shoulder, with the intention of kissing her.

“I'm happy too that- WAAH! _What happened to your FACE?!”_ he suddenly yelled as he took a good look at it.

“M-my face?" she stammered, "What’s wrong with it?!”

“Your eye is BLACK! And it's HUGE! _It looks like a rotting tomato!”_

She flinched back in embarrassment; she self-consciously reached to touch her eye, but her hand jerked back at a sting of pain. Zim was probably right: at this point, she practically couldn't open it anymore, and the whole area around it and her cheekbone felt numb and swollen. She must have looked pretty _terrible._

“Does it look that bad?” she whispered.

“It does!” Zim nodded, "Who did that to you?! Tell me! _They deserve to have their eyes plucked out!"_

“OH! Zim! You won’t believe it!" she exclaimed, "The person behind this whole mess was DIB!"

Zim stared at her for a moment, with widened eyes and agape mouth.

“... DIB?! Are you JOKING?! Are you SURE it was him?!?" he finally erupted.

“Yeah!" she nodded, "He had spiky, ridiculous black hair! Wore glasses! He rode on an Irken ship! And he was obsessed with _vivisecting people!"_

“AAAAH!!!” he threw his hands on his head, screaming in terror, _"It all makes sense now!!!"_

“Yeah! And he had tentacles of smoke coming out of his head-”

“Wait, what? Tentacles?" Zim blinked, suddenly all calm. "The Dib I know doesn’t have those. Must be a different Dib”

Driver blinked back at him, incredulous.

“... but, Zim… what are the chances that a kid named Dib would-”

“Was his head big?” he interrupted her.

“... I mean… I wouldn’t call the head big, it’s his _body_ that-”

“Oh, so it definitely isn’t him!" he exhaled in relief, "Well, good! I was afraid I'd have to kill him again! Did you get proper vengeance upon this... _Dib 2?"_

“... I punched him until he passed out"

"That's my human for you! Killing children with her bare fists!" he complimented her, patting a hand on her shoulder.

_Oh, well. Whatever. I don't have the energies to argue._

"Thanks, Zim, I- wait a second. _Where’s my ship gone to?"_

"Uh-" Zim jumped, completely taken aback, "Well, you see, uhhhhh- OH! _There it is!"_

Zim pointed at something up in the air, to her left.

Driver followed his finger, to find that yes, that _was_ her ship, hovering up in the sky.

Suddenly, it descended towards their same roof, landing a few feet in front of them.

"I can't believe it... it's really _him"_ Driver murmured as she saw the bar-tending Blob through the windshield, grinning evilly down at them.

Once the ship settled, he worked with his tentacles on the control panel, and the missiles on the ship's sides aimed at them.

 _“Well, well, well"_ he spoke, amplifying his voice through the ship's outer loudspeaker. "If it isn't my favorite _ape._ Such a nostalgic scene, isn't it? Only _this time_ I get to _erase_ you both once and for all"

"Blob?! You're still alive?! I thought I had taken care of you!" Zim yelled.

"'Taken care of me'?!" the Blob shouted back, outraged, _"All you did was setting your ship on fire and escape!"_

Driver turned and glared at Zim, who recoiled from her with a guilty expression.

“L-Liar! _These are all lies!”_ Zim accused him.

“Well, enough with that. Let's get to _business"_ the Blob turned to her, an amused, evil expression on his face.

"You know, I'd thought I'd burn your ship in front of you. _Instead,_ I'm going to blast you off from reality with it. It's much more poetic that way, don't you think? You have any last words before I do?”

Driver glared back at the Blob. She got up from her knees, and crossed her arms on her chest. Zim observed her with curiosity.

She bit her lower lip, then huffed. That was it. She was officially, one hundred percent _done_ with people trying to kill her for that day.

“You know what, Blob?" she spoke up, "I’ll let you go, in the name of the good times we spent together. _If_ you step out of my ship, go away and never come back. I’ll give you three seconds. _Three...”_

“Ha ha ha!" the Blob let out a rough laugh, _"You'll_ let me go?! You are such a bluffer, _miss!"_

_“Two...”_

“How fitting, for your last words to be lies...” his tentacles moved on the missile-shooting controls on the steering wheel.

_"One"_

"I'm going to buy an even _bigger_ bar with your bounty..."

Driver raised up her left hand; pressed a button on her watch, and spoke into the ship's remote control.

_“Ship. Release the anti-biological acid gas”_

Zim's antennae perked up in surprise and curiosity.

“Heh, the- wait, the what?" the Blob asked, his expression becoming shocked and disconcerted.

"Yeah, the what?!" Zim turned to her.

Then, the inside of the ship filled with a green smoke, vented from the internal emitters.

"WHAT- What- AAAAAHHHH nooooo!” the Blob screamed with horror as the gas started melting him: his tentacles fell to the floor, and his body and face lost their shape, like _jelly left out in the sun._

 _"NOOO! LET ME OUT OF HERE! LeT mE oUuuUUUttt..."_ his voice devolved into a gargle, his body melting more and more, until he wasn't visible from the outside anymore, surely reduced to a puddle on the ship's floor.

 _“Haha”_ Driver let out a cold laughter, eyes pointed to her dying enemy. “That’ll teach you playing _hero,_ you _moron”_

Zim got up on her face level using his PAK's legs. He grabbed her face, turned it to him, and pressed his lips against hers in a passionate kiss.

Driver hung limp from his hands, despite her bruised face's protests under their pressure, until they pulled her away from him with a loud, wet _'smack'_ sound.

Driver stared at Zim; he was panting, with his face flushed and his excited eyes fixed in hers.

“... really, Zim? Tongue first, just like that?”

“I-I’m sorry. I blacked out for a moment. That was... _so attractive"_

"Oh, well, haha..." she chuckled, "I guess I owed you one, anyway"

“But why did you never mention the bio-erasing acid?" Zim then threw his arms up. "I could have used it when I first noticed him on the ship!”

“So that you could melt yourself with him?” she pointed out.

 _“...oh”_ Zim realized the flaw in his logic.

“See? That’s why I don’t trust you with a bio-erasing acid” she shook her head.

“But Driiiiver-” he whined.

“That’s final, Zim" she cut him off, "Your _suicidal impulses_ are dangerous enough as they are"

She raised her left wrist, and spoke into the watch again:

"Now, ship, use the ventilation system to get that acid all out. We gotta get off this planet before they arrest us for destroying the city- Oh. That's called _terrorism,_ isn't it? That’s gonna get my bounty sooo high...”

  
  


  
  


Escaping from that planet turned out to be much easier than they both expected: no authority stopped them on their way out of its atmosphere, and the fact itself that the ship could even take off was a miracle, as its state was less than ideal. To be completely honest, it was a _mess:_ the bow, outside, was all dented and ruined. The control room’s floor had been blackened and partially melted from the fire. At the very least, the acid had erased the blob's body down to the last particle, so they didn't have to scrub off any jelly, and the air clean-up had left the ship's interior fresh and pure to the breathing.

After they’d taken off and flown away, setting course again for their original destination, Driver had walked into the bathroom to wash, and had understood why Zim had had that reaction: the face she saw in the mirror was _cut,_ and _bruised,_ and _swollen;_ her eye had turned to a _near-black purple._ _That goddamn kid..._

Driver had felt so completely drained from all energies, that she’d simply washed her face, gone to her bedroom and let herself fall on her cot; she would have probably dozed to sleep, too, if it wasn’t for Zim appearing at her door.

He observed her from the open door, lying on her cot with all the lights of the cabin out. Did she really wanna go to bed looking like _that?_

She weakly turned her face to him, who crossed his arms on his chest in disapproval.

“What?” she asked.

“You’re just gonna go to bed looking like _that?_ You’re all dirty, and your face is a disaster” he frowned.

“Wow. Careful with that tact, Zim” she turned away from him on her bed, turning to the wall behind. "I’m too sore to do anything. Just close the door and pretend I'm not here"

Zim blinked, looking at her turned back. Driver was always so careful with her appearance and personal hygiene; she had to have been pushed to her limits if she really didn't care. She must have been in a lot of... _pain._

He quickly turned and stepped into the bathroom, and returned to her with the first aid kit. When he turned on the lamp on her nightstand, she turned again and squinted at him.

“What are you doing?”

Zim put the suitcase next to her on the bed and opened it.

“Let me at least help you with your wounds. The sooner you treat them, the better and faster you’ll heal”

“... oh” she slowly sat upright.

Zim sat on her bed, and started preparing the cotton and the disinfectant.

“You... you don't have to do it, you know?"

Zim looked up, with a somewhat... _worried,_ yet determined expression on him.

"I know I don't. But I _want_ to" he replied.

"Ah..." she sighed.

Normally she would have loved to see Zim being so caring, but at that moment, she was honestly _embarrassed_ to show herself to him in that state. She felt _dirty._ And she felt _ugly._

Zim didn't seem to mind, though: he dampened the cotton with disinfectant, and started wiping a cut above her right eyebrow.

 _"Ouch"_ she shivered as the cut stung.

"I knew it was a bad idea" Zim murmured, "To let you out of the ship alone, I mean"

"Aaahhh... yeahhh" she groaned guiltily, "I'm sorry. That was very careless in hindsight, I know"

Zim prepared another piece of cotton and wiped another cut, on her right cheek.

"I'm... I'm sorry I couldn't help you... _sooner"_ he continued, "I-"

"Mmm-mm" she lightly shook her head, "We are a soldier and a criminal. They’re very _dangerous_ jobs. We can’t blame ourselves if the other gets hurt. That’s solely on our enemies”

"But a taxi-drone saved you before I could!"

"Haha!" she chuckled, "Philip didn't _save_ me! I ran into him after I escaped, on my own!"

"But... he cheated me with you, right?" he looked up at her with big sad eyes.

"Whu- _'cheated'?!"_ she scoffed, "You mean _I_ ch- wait. Do you know what 'cheating' means?"

"Uh..." he hesitated, "It's when... you wanna do something for your partner but someone does it before you, right?"

"Hahaha, no!" she giggled, "No, Zim. Cheating means hooking up with someone who's not your partner"

"Oh. You mean, like, making out? And you-"

"And I would _never_ do that. Especially when my partner is _you"_ she reassured him caressing his shoulder. "Plus, you were already busy saving _yourself._ And I made it out alive after all, right? You have nothing to worry about"

"Fine" he sighed in relief, "Though I _would_ have liked to at least punish the filthy child who _kicked_ you"

 _Maybe you'll have your chance,_ she thought. Dib had looked so obsessed in getting his revenge on him. He would surely come back to bother them, eventually, provided that he could find them...

Her train of thought was cut off when Zim leaned in, balancing himself on her shoulders, and placed a gentle kiss on her swollen eye.

Driver observed him with widened eyes, her cheeks completely flushed.

“What was that?” she confusedly asked.

“Humans heal better if you kiss their wounds, yes?” he explained.

"Awwww, Zim!!!" she cooed, her heart _melting_ from his adorableness, "That's so cu-"

Zim slapped an ice pack on her eye.

“Keep it there until the swelling has gone down” he instructed her.

"Geesh" she held the ice pack up with her own hand, "Way to ruin the mood"

Zim ignored her protests, preparing the plasters to put on her cuts. Driver chuckled. It was so charming, the way he took certain tasks so seriously and diligently.

"What about you, uh?" she asked, "I'd told you to run away if someone attacked the ship. Sasha, Tom and the Blob all ganged up on you, right?"

"Uh? You mean the rat-thing and the polar-bear-thing?" Zim asked back as he covered the first cut with a plaster.

"Yeah" she nodded. "It must have been dangerous. You could have _died._ What would I do without you, uh?"

"Heh. Yeah" Zim chuckled, covering the other cut. "If you went to the Krass-man without the only one who can build the machine, he-"

"No, _dummy"_ she rolled her eyes up. Why did he have to always be so- so _materialistic?_

"It's because _I love you"_

Zim tilted his head up, staring at her with shocked eyes.

Driver stared back at him with her eye, and only then realized what _words_ had just escaped her mouth.

_Ooops._

"Uh, a- anyway," she started reordering the first aid kit with her free hand, as an excuse not to look at his eyes. "You were _great,_ handling three of them at once. I wish I could have seen it, haha!"

"... yeah... I was... _great"_ Zim slowly nodded, still hung up at her words.

He looked down too at the medical kit, to help her, _and_ avoid her eyes also.

"But, eh... human children are pretty terrible, too. I would take on three dumb aliens over a single human child any day"

"It wasn't just him" she replied, "There was also the _leader_ of the three dumb aliens"

"Wasn't the kid the leader?"

"I mean, the previous leader. The leader from before the kid took over. He was a _Tufudully”_

“What, _really?”_ Zim scoffed, closing the medical kit and looking up at her again, "Those ridiculous _hairy, fluffy_ things?"

“Yeah, but he dressed so tightly he almost looked human!” she nodded, "He had arranged his fur so that it'd look like a big _mustache!"_

“Hahaha!" Zim laughed, "He must have been _hilarious!_ I didn't think those things could _fight!"_

“Yeah, and he was the absolute _worst_ of them all! I'm sure I could have never guessed if I'd seen his real appearance, right? I’m so glad I got to blow him up! Hahaha!" she laughed, remembering how she'd made him crash and explode.

"He believed himself to some kind of... _paladin of justice,_ but he also admitted _proudly_ to be a _molester!_ If that doesn't sum up the current justice system, I don't know what does..."

Zim cocked an eyebrow up, confused.

“A molester? Like, a ‘nuisance’?”

“Uh… I mean, you know, it’s- Oh, come on, you know what I mean!” she chuckled.

Zim gave her a confused, deadpan stare.

“Like, you know, someone who forces themselves onto others” she explained.

Zim frowned, triply confused.

“‘Forces’… into _what?”_

Driver sighed. Well, at least she could be sure he wasn’t into her just _physically..._

“Like, _sexually”_

Zim widened his eyes in complete and utter horror.

 _“HE FORCIBLY MATED WITH YOU?!”_ he screamed at the top of his spooch.

“What the- NO!" she squealed back, "No, no! Nothing that serious, no! Also, don't USE that _wording,_ oh my God-”

“Nothing that _serious?_ " he repeated, all panicked. "Then WHAT did he do to you?!”

“He- uh"

 _Crap_ . What was up with her mouth? Had that kick _removed_ all her nuance from her?

"He did nothing. He didn’t do anything. _Calm down”_ she spoke firmly.

“Then why mention him as a molester?” he pried, looking at her suspiciously.

“Like, to other people! In general! Not to _me!”_ she explained.

"So, what? He walked in and announced, 'I like to forcibly mate with people'?!"

"Y..." she stuttered, his prying and curious eyes suddenly turning her anxious, "Y-yes".

Zim frowned at her, clearly unconvinced by her words.

“He did do something to you, didn’t he?”

"I-"

Driver's stomach churned in discomfort as she suddenly _felt_ that unwelcome hand between her buttocks. She averted her eyes, feeling humiliated at that memory, as if Zim could somehow peer in her mind and indirectly witness that scene.

“Look, it isn’t a big deal" she murmured "Nothing serious happened. It's-It’s _kinda_ normal for the women in my field. It _had_ to happen sooner or-”

“But _what_ happened, then?” Zim asked insistently, "If he didn't _mate_ with you, then wha-"

"I don't wanna _talk_ about it!" she bluntly cut him off, irritated that that pleasant atmosphere had been interrupted so suddenly, over something that she wasn't even paying any attention to.

"It's- it's _embarrassing,_ okay?" she explained, keeping her eyes off him. "He's _dead_ anyway. It's all _over._ I just... wanna _forget_ about it"

Driver used the ice pack to hide her face further from Zim. She hated to admit, but she felt _tears_ pressing just behind her eyes. That disgusting creep, almost making her _cry!_ Over something so _minuscule!_ Oh, if she only could kill him _a second time!_

Zim stared at her in silence for a few moments. She probably didn't know, but he _had_ noticed the shimmering in her eyes, like she was on the verge of tears.

He fiddled with his hands, unsure on what to do.

Seeing her so shaken, and hurt, made _him_ feel so... profoundly _upset._ And _furious._ Who'd dared hurting her like that?! What had he even _done_ to her?!

But... Driver was right. That guy was _dead._ There was no one to be angry at, or to take revenge on. It was all a matter of _forgetting_ what happened... no?

Driver was still hiding her face from him, trying to keep her breathing down.

He clenched his fists in frustration. No. He couldn't take seeing her like that. He _had_ to help her, _now_ . What was it that she usually did, when _he_ felt upset?

Zim scooped closer to her, and closed her waist in a hug from her left side.

Driver looked down at him in confusion. Zim sighed, correctly interpreting her unspoken question, and went on to try, at the best of his capabilities, to, for the first time in his life, _genuinely console_ someone.

_Well, here goes nothing._

“I know I’m not as good as you at… _consoling”_ he quietly spoke, carefully measuring his words, afraid that a misstep could confuse her or even _offend_ her.

"But. Uhm. I know how... difficult it is. To. Eh... _show weakness"_

Driver stared down at him with her one good eye, at a complete loss of words.

"And, like, uhh... yes! Like _you_ said, partners don't feel shame in front of each other, no?" he nodded, his cheek pressed against her side.

“You don’t have to tell me what happened _. I guess._ I mean, I'm _super_ curious to know what happened. But you don't have to! You uhm... must do things at your pace, and all that" he continued, trying to remember all he knew on the matter of emotions and feelings -and most of it was Driver's own advice.

Driver opened her mouth to speak, but again, found herself unable to say anything. When was the last time when someone had actually... _held her_ like that, consoling her from her pain? Talking to her so... _sweetly?_

She bit the inside of her cheek, and squinted her eye. Maybe it was better not to open her mouth: then, she felt, she _really_ would have cried.

Her silence however worried Zim, who went on to speak:

"I-I’m trying to understand how humans work. I _really_ am. I wanna… _support_ you” he gently stroked her body's side, as he snuggled closer to her, "Is it so hard to believe, that I'd just feel like doing _something_ for you? Because _I want to?_ I mean, uh-"

He raised his head up at his realization.

"I mean, it _is_ pretty surprising, in a general sense. But _you're_ the exception" he nodded, looking up at her face again.

"I guess, uhm... what I wanna say is... I'm sorry you got hurt. And I'll do... anything it takes, to make you feel better. Because... _you're amazing._ And, uhm. I... _hate_ to see you being like this" he concluded, hoping that his speech had gotten through her.

Driver said nothing for a moment.

Then, she put aside the ice pack, put her arms around his head. And returned his hug.

Zim looked left and right, confused.

That was... a _good thing,_ right?

Apparently it was, because Driver went on to say:

"Thank you, Zim. I feel much better now".

She squeezed him tight in her embrace, feeling a huge surge of _love_ for the little alien whose warm, soft body was pressed against hers.

“And I- I _do_ trust you. I’m just… not used to… this” she explained.

“To what?”

“Being... _consoled,_ I guess”

“That’s weird. You’re so good at it” he pointed out.

"Not... many people to do it for me, I guess" she chuckled. "I-"

And then, her stomach growled. _Very loudly,_ and right into Zim's ear.

“Ooof. I’m sorry" she cringed, "I ruined it, didn't I?”

“It's fine" Zim shook his head, still holding her tight in his embrace. "I kind of like listening to your organs' sounds. It's one of those weird, gross couple things, right?"

"Haha!" she let out, nodding, "Guess it is"

"I’ll prepare dinner" Zim said, "You don’t have to lift a finger tonight!”

“I never bought the supplies though” she pointed out, "There's not much to go around"

“Well… what about sandwiches?" Zim excitedly proposed, smiling up at her. "They're, like, my best dish. I'm sure you'll be amazed!"

Driver giggled, smiling back at him.

"I already am, Zim".

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just out of curiosity, how many of you guys are male? And if any of you are at all, why are you interested in this story?


	19. Under the Sky of Nortyne 111

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Driver and Zim finally arrive to the promised laboratory, and Driver ends up sharing a bit about her past... maybe way more than she intended, or wanted.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A heads-up: for whomever is interested, I'm editing the first chapters to make them fit better with the story and style I'm writing with right now; so far I've rewritten parts of ch1-2-3, check their notes for more info on that;
> 
> Thanks for your attention, and now onto the story:

**BEFORE YOU READ THIS CHAPTER:** it contains a lot of musical references *cue booing sounds*, almost all the songs are fairly easy to search by title or lyrics, but for the last one (you'll know which one once you reach it) it's best if you refer to this version here: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=11_aneHVaz8 , as this is how I imagine it sounds in the story, at least instrumentally.

* * *

"'It solely feeds on Plaktlart'. Seven letters" Driver pensively tipped the pen on the magazine’s page.

"Mmh... 'Schlorp'. Try 'Schlorp'" Zim suggested.

"Oooh, yeah. That way horizontal eight makes sense. Thanks!" she scribbled the answer into the boxes.

"Hahaha, I thought 'Schlorps' were those sounds dogs make when they drink" she joked.

"Mmh? No, they are these giant things with long necks that have moss and plants growing on them” he corrected her, her joke completely flying over his head.

“ _Brrr"_ he then shivered with disgust. "They're _filthy"._

Driver shook her head in joking disapproval.

"You find _everything_ filthy, Zim. Moss and plants aren’t- _oh!"_

 _Beep beep beep._ An alarm sound rang from the panel control, a small green light blinking with it above the keyboard.

"What's that mean?" Zim asked.

"It means we're _here!"_ Driver smiled at him with excitement, "We've arrived!"

Driver uncrossed her legs and put the magazine and the pen aside. She pressed a couple buttons on the panel, and a wandering red dot appeared on the windshield’s screen; when it fixed on a luminous object in space, it expanded, turning into a bigger, green circle, with four arrows pointed to its center.

"There it is!" she pointed at the dot inside the circle, "That's the place with the lab! We should be there in half an hour!"

Zim's eyes widened, and his mouth stretched into a big, enthusiastic smile.

 _"Really?!"_ he exclaimed, putting his hands on the panel and pulling himself closer to the screen, eyes fixed on the dot.

"Yes! _Finally!!!_ It's finally time for the _last part_ of my plan! I can practically see Earth's _filthy_ _surface_ before my eyes!" he beamed with joy, and he evilly rubbed his hands together in anticipation.

 _"Finally,_ we'll be able to leave this damn ship" Driver echoed in a sigh of relief, letting her body loosen and lean limp on her chair. "I can't wait to stretch my legs!"

"What kind of place is it?" Zim asked.

Driver pressed the necessary buttons so that the ship would display the information available on the planet.

"It’s on a planet named... _Nortyne 111._ It's marked as a bio-hazardous planet and it’s completely unpopulated" Driver read. "Day cycle of 20 hours, average temperature of 36 degrees; mix of poisonous gases in the atmosphere. Mmmh. We'll have to wear protective suits".

"I guess it's a good cover for the lab! Maybe it's _underground-_ ohhh! I _hope_ it's underground! Just like _my base!"_ Zim happily clapped his hands, talking as if an underground _bunker_ was some kind of all-included _luxury resort._

Driver also looked at the dot. She may have not been as enthusiastic as Zim about closing herself in yet _another_ box made of cold hard metal and cement, but after so much time spent in it, she would have taken _anything_ over her small ship. _Finally,_ something new and exciting!… in a _good_ way, this time! Well, for Zim, anyway. He was clearly overjoyed to start building his machine, and she _did_ like to see him happy. And even though she couldn’t help him in that, she would have probably found something better to do there than cooking, cleaning, and crossword puzzles… so she hoped, at least. Maybe she could even set a teleporter, and finally tend to her home!

She deactivated the autopilot and started steering the ship herself; she glanced at Zim, to her side, who was happily swinging his little legs back and forth; his smiling lips started humming a quiet, but excited tune.

“ _Mm mmm mm mm”_ he sang, and Driver smiled to herself; she wasn't sure he was aware of that habit of his, singing when lost in thought, and- _wait._

That tune was… _oddly familiar._ Where had she heard it before?

She listened to it more closely, and finally recognized it.

“Heeeey!” she exclaimed. “That's 'Holiday' by Green Day, isn't it?”

“Hm? What is?” he distractedly asked, without even turning to her.

“The song you're singing!”

“Eh? Ooh, yeah, yeah, I think it is” he nodded, eyes still fixed on the planet.

“Right on, Zim! Did they still play their music on Earth even after all these years?”

“I dunno. I never really _explored_ Earth’s music. It's such a useless, _frivolous_ distraction...” he mumbled, his insults lacking their usual punch as the approaching destination distracted him.

Driver rolled her eyes.

_Here we go again. Playing ‘Mister I-pretend-not-to-like-stuff-I-actually-enjoy’._

“ _No?”_ she sardonically asked, “Then where did you learn the song from, hm?"

"Your mp3 player".

Driver’s foot slammed down on the brake and the ship abruptly halted, making the whole structure _and_ the two passengers within violently shake.

“ _WARGH- What the-?!”_ Zim jerked forth and back, the seat belt holding him on his seat.

He turned to her, and his angry look turned into an utterly confused one as he saw her, staring at him, wide-eyed and _horrified._

They stared at each other for a moment, in complete silence, save for the low hum of the ship’s engines.

 _"Y-you...”_ Driver finally whispered, her voice coming out strained and dry, “… you used my _mp3 player?!",_ her question ending in a _squeak._

 _"Uh..."_ Zim shrank in his seat fearfully, still confused, but aware that what he’d done must have been very, _very_ wrong. "Y-you said I could use anything on the ship to pass the time! Since I get so bored at night!" he tried to defend himself.

Her eyes instinctively darted to the drawer under the panel control, where she always kept her mp3 player when not in use. How could she _neglect_ to hide it from him?!

"I-I mean, yeah, but NOT _the mp3 player!"_ she retorted in a shrill voice.

"Why not?!" he asked.

"Because it' _s personal!"_

"How is _music_ personal?!" he protested.

"It's the music I like! The music I've liked for more than _ten years!_ It's _very_ personal! What-what _songs_ did you listen to?!"

"Well, uh...” Zim’s hands guiltily fiddled in his lap, “I-I think I ran through almost all of them".

Driver cringed, her cheeks flaring up, as in her mind flashed all the embarrassing songs she’d saved on that device: the _anime openings,_ the _nightcore remixes,_ the _Disney songs,_ the dumb, some times obscene _pop songs,_ the downloaded tracks with _'YouTube'_ still in the title...

She gulped, somehow finding the courage to ask one more question.

“ _Did you see the playlists too?”_ she quietly whispered.

“You mean the folders called 'Sad', 'Love', 'Angry', 'Sexy’-”

“ _Aaaaaaahhhh!!!”_ she wailed, embarrassment at an all time high, "I-I made that system in _middle_ _school!_ It was practical, so I kept it! I-I don't even like many of the songs anymore! I just keep them for _sentimental_ value!"

Zim stared back at her with a curious expression.

He blinked a couple times, like he was considering something

 _"... Driver..."_ he slowly spoke, "... are you being _shy?"_

 _"U-uh-"_ she stuttered, taken aback by his question.

"Pfff, _ha!"_ she scoffed, attempting to put herself together. "No, _of course_ not!"

She turned, looking straight ahead at the space in front of her, and restarted the ship.

"I'm just... _surprised,_ that's all!” she went on to explain, steering the ship forward again. “No one but me ha d ever listened to my mp3! I had just _assumed_ you wouldn’t use it, even though it was _technically_ included in ‘all the things in the ship’ you could use!… I know it doesn’t make much sense in hindsight, but yeah!" she convincingly nodded.

Zim kept staring at her.

When she turned back to him, she saw him with his chin rested on his palms, elbows on the panel, looking at her with a smug, malicious smile.

 _"... what?"_ she asked.

"You know. I was never sure what humans meant when they called something _'cute'. Now I do"_ his smirk deepened, and the emphasis he put on that last part set her cheeks on _fire._

Driver turned again, face completely red and heart pounding.

“ _Ha-ha._ Look who’s _talking_ ” she pouted, unable to conceal her very real, very apparent shyness, “You’re embarrassed about _everything!”_

“Yeah, but not right now! Haha!” Zim gloated, throwing his hands behind his head in a nonchalant gesture and leaning against his seat’s back. “But don’t worry, Driver. I _do_ kinda like your music. Especially the _angry, scream-ey_ stuff. I don’t really get what’s so embarrassing about it, to be honest! Although…" and he shot her a _lascivious_ look, “… I’m glad I got to see your shy, _bashful_ side, for once”.

Driver gulped, his embarrassing words _tickling_ her ears.

“Hah. How _cheeky_ you are...” she quietly commented, hoping that he wouldn’t continue that discussion any further, because she was clearly _losing_ it.

Luckily for her, that didn’t seem to be his intention, but the smug expression that still lingered on his face probably meant that it was because he felt he’d _won._

Driver huffed, flustered at her own helplessness, and tried to concentrate on their approaching destination instead.

  
  


Nortyne 111 became visible -that is, it became more than a simple dot of light- shortly after: it was all _blue,_ its surface divided in smaller ‘patches’ of various shades of that same color; only the two poles were different, sprinkled with a white tint; though it immediately reminded Driver of Earth, she didn’t pay it much mind: as an Earthling, she was probably a biased party; _many_ planets reminded her of Earth.

But as they went on to breach the atmosphere, she realized that the similarities with Earth weren’t limited to the color pattern alone: the clouds they were traveling through _also_ looked like the ones on her home planet, and contrary to the information she’d read, the air appeared clear and clean. She ran a diagnostic of the surrounding atmosphere, just to be sure, and sure enough, any and all results for poisonous gases came in _negative._

"Weird” she commented, “The air make-up is similar to Earth's, at least up here. No signs of poison”

“Maybe the poison is all near the surface?” Zim suggested, and he almost sounded _hopeful._ “If it’s _that heavy,_ it must be a highly deadly one too!”

“I don’t know, Zim...” she murmured, dubious. “With this high concentration of water in the air, the surface might- _OH MY GOOOD!!!"_ she let out a shrill scream.

 _"WHAT?!"_ Zim jumped on his seat, _"What, what is it NOW?!"_

 _"That's an OCEAN!!!_ It's an _ocean,_ right?!" she pointed out of the windshield.

Zim followed her finger, to look at the immense expanse of glimmering, blue _water_ that covered the planet’s surface under them.

"I hadn’t noticed because the ground is blue too, but that's all _water!_ Oh my God, it had been years since I last saw a planet with this much _water!"_ she gushed with the utmost enthusiasm.

"Ah, yeah, that's... _great"_ Zim put on strained smile. "Maybe it’s all… _poisoned water?”_

But Zim’s theory of a _poison ocean_ got more and more improbable as they approached the surface, and so did the data the ship had provided them with, which was either _outdated,_ or had been _falsified_ to keep people away, because Nortyne 111 was _literally full of life:_ the ground wasn’t blue because of the dirt’s make-up; that color belonged _to the plants sprouting from it._

Driver held her breath before that beautiful spectacle, her initial enthusiasm turning into _pure awe:_ there were _shores,_ lines of white sand marking the border between the water and the land; and beyond them, _plants. Blue_ plants _everywhere,_ like a second, _solid ocean next to the water one._

As they got closer, they became more and more defined to her eyes: grass, bushes, trees, _forests._ At one point, Driver could have _sworn_ she saw _something_ running among the grass, probably an animal.

As her ship approached the surface, the ship’s analysis confirmed that the temperature, too, was different than the listed one and much, _much warmer._ Basically the temperature of a nice, average spring day in a temperate climate on Earth.

Basically, the only accurate part of the report was that there didn't seem to be any people there beside the two of them.

They were now very close to the location of the secret laboratory, and Driver couldn’t _wait_ to step on the surface, while Zim’s mood had apparently dipped down in the opposite direction: the more the original info on the planet was discredited, the more disappointed he looked. He really had hoped to work on a poisonous, glacial, _barren_ ball, hadn’t he?

Driver parked her ship on a hilly patch of land, a few steps from the _ocean_ (she’d let out an exulting _squeal_ when she’d noticed the place they would have to go to); they disembarked with their own clothes, as they were clearly in no need of any protective suit, and Driver immediately ran away from her ship to take a better look at the surrounding landscape.

She didn’t think it was possible, but the planet was even more beautiful when looked at from its surface: in front of her, an immense valley of blue hills; a light breeze was caressing the grass, making it _really_ look like the waves of an ocean. In the distance, past the haze, stood a chain of high, blue mountains with white snow on their peaks. Above, blue sky, white clouds lazily floating about. Her eyes returned to the grass, where she noticed small, colorful dots scattered all around, yellow, pink, white: _flowers,_ probably. A _bug_ of some kind passed buzzing in front of her, and flew away in the fields.

She turned around: there was a gentle decline, upon which the grass got sparser and sparser until a white beach began; and beyond it, of course, _the ocean,_ the real, _water_ one. To her right, behind the hills on their ground level, were tall , dark rocks, forming a cliff on the sea. If she concentrated, she could hear the sound of the waves, breaking against it. But besides that, it was complete and utter silence: that _purest_ kind of silence that could only be found in uncontaminated nature.

Driver had been completely paralyzed from that view; for a moment, she became incapable of forming any coherent thought: she just stared at the scene around her, mouth agape, breath cut short, eyes wide open.

_This is Heaven, isn’t it? Or at least, that’s the closest thing to it that you can find while you’re still alive..._

She looked at the sun’s blinding reflection on the water, glimmering out there on the edge of the distant horizon, and a smile stretched so wide on her face it almost hurt her cheeks; overwhelmed by her emotions, she felt a surge of heat behind her nose, and her eyes started watering.

"Oh my God...” she whispered, “It's beautif-"

"It’s _horrible!"_ Zim’s whiny, shrill voice came _bleating_ from behind her.

She looked down at him, standing beside her, pouting and with his arms crossed in disapproval.

"Whaaat?! Zim are you _joking?!_ Are you _blind?!_ Look at this _place!_ It’s like we just landed in _Paradise!!!" she yelled, utterly outraged and shocked._

"You call _me_ blind?! I only see this place as the heap of grass, dirt and salt that it is!" Zim angrily kicked the ground, overturning a small clump of dirt and grass, "Where's the _poison_ I was promised?!"

"Hey, don't do that! You _meanie!"_ Driver knelt to put the grass back in its place, roots down. "We could be the first people who set foot on this planet in... centuries! And the first thing you do is kicking a defenseless plant!"

Driver lovingly patted down on the grass, fitting it back in its place; Zim stared down at her with huge, appalled eyes.

"Are you... _crying,_ Driver?!" he asked her.

"I-I mean, can you blame me?!" she dried her eyes with her hand's palm, and sprang right back to her feet.

"This place is _everything_ I could ever dream of!!! A whole - _virgin_ \- planet! How RARE is that?! Oooh, we gotta go to the beach! Too bad I don't have a swimsuit- oh, who cares?! I'll do it without one! And we _gotta_ see those mountains! We can go there with the _ship!_ Do you think there are fruit-bearing trees on this planet? There must be, right? And who knows what kind of animals live here! Fish? Birds? I _gotta_ see it all!!! We-"

“Hey, hey, HEY!" Zim harshly interrupted her, waving his arms up in a 'stop' sign. "This is _all_ very interesting and all, but we have a _job_ to do! Leave your weird fascination with virgins-”

"I _beg_ you not to use that wording, Zim"

"-aside, and help me find the _laboratory!"_ he put a hand through a pad in his PAK and drew out the key to the laboratory, still wrapped by the piece of paper with its coordinates.

"The frolicking in the grass-lands can wait for _after_ we've located _and_ inspected the lab!"

"... Oh..." she sighed, her expression falling. Right about now, closing herself inside some dark, technological space, away from all that natural, bright beauty, was the exact _opposite_ of what she wanted to do.

"Well... I guess you're right, but-"

"No buts. Now _follow me"_ he ordered in a tone that left no room for retorts.

He turned to one side, and drew something else out of his PAK: an _ambient scanner._

"It should be _very_ close. In a 100 meter radius from where we are..." he stated, holding the tablet-shaped scanner up and pressing the buttons on it to set the correct parameters.

Driver looked at Zim, working on his device.

She turned back, and looked at the beautiful, blue, shiny sea.

Back at Zim.

At the sea.

At Zim.

At the sea.

Having made up her mind, Driver turned to Zim one last time, and gave him an utterly apologetic look.

"Hold onto that thought, Zim. It’ll take _one_ minute” she raised her index up.

Zim’s confused eyes turned from the device to her.

_"Hold onto-"_

Heeded by the irresistible call of the sea, Driver turned and happily trotted down the grassy decline.

“Where are you going?! _Driver!”_ the incredulous voice of Zim called her ; but her eyes and attention were wholly focused on the beach and the ocean in front of her.

She reached the white sand, and the creaking sound of the sand grains under her boots was enough to conjure in her a deeply nostalgic and bittersweet feeling.

She halted, and took a moment to savor the fizzy, salty sea breeze caressing her face and going up her nostrils, as well as the sweet, sweet sounds of the waves washing up the shore.

Zim’s little creaking footsteps announced his arrival on the beach, and his irritated voice definitely broke that initial enchantment:

“ _Driver!_ What on _Irk_ are you doing?!”

“ I’m so sorry, Zim” she apologized , though unable to contain a smile in front of him. “I’ve missed this sight so much! It’s just so beautiful, I _needed_ to see it now!”

“ _It’s. Just. WATER”_ Zim punctuated each word with an increasingly stronger shake of his hands. “We were looking for the LABORATORY. Quit playing around, and come _help_ me!”

“I know, I know, but _please!”_ she begged him, “After we get to work I might not be able to do this for a long time! Please, give me just one second, and I’ll come with you right away!”

“One second for _what?!”_

Driver quickly sat down on the sand, and started untying her boots.

“Driver…?” Zim took a few more steps toward her.

Driver took off her right boot and sock; then worked to get the left ones off too.

“What are you doing?” Zim repeated with utter confusion.

“Look, Zim. I don’t expect you to understand. Irk probably doesn't even _have_ an ocean-"

“Of course it doesn't! It's a _civilized_ planet!”

“The _point,_ Zim, is that humans have a _unique connection_ to nature, that many aliens have long lost!” she explained, letting her second boot fall to the ground.

Driver jumped back up, now completely barefoot; she shivered, the feeling of the sand under the soles of her feet evoking even more distant memories.

“And _that_ means, that sometimes we gotta get some _‘nature time’._ It’s actually _encoded_ in us, _genetically._ You understand?” she went on.

Zim silently blank-stared at her: _evidently,_ he didn’t.

Driver turned again, and walked toward the ocean.

Her eyes widened with child-like wonder and anticipation: the sun above was pleasantly warm, while the water appeared more and more pristine as she approached, the sand clearly visible under its surface for the first few feet in.

Her heart raced with excitement: maybe she could even take a dip in!

“ _Aaahhhh, Driver, nooo!”_ Zim let out a horrified shrill, probably having guessed her intentions, “That’s so unsanitarily _gross!_ Who KNOWS what’s in that water-”

Driver ignored his protests, and joyfully jumped into a wave with both her feet.

Something that she _immediately_ regretted doing, especially so quickly: that water was so _freezing_ _cold,_ it felt like she’d jumped in a bucket full of _ice daggers;_ any and all sensations coming from half her leg down was cut off, except for the acute stinging of the ice cold water, penetrating through her skin and her flesh.

Her body instantly paralyzed, and she suffocated a pained yelp in the middle of her throat.

Frozen in place (literally), Driver pitifully, shamefully looked back at Zim, desperate, wide-open eyes swelling with tears.

“ _... Ziiiiiiiiiiiiiim”_ she whined in an acute voice.

Zim’s antennae perked up, his annoyance turning to genuine concern for her.

“ _What?! What's wrong?!”_ he tensed up, getting into a battle stance, imagining maybe that she’d just really been attacked by an unknown marine creature.

“ _T-The water is f-freezing c-cooold!”_ she helplessly waved a hand at him, “Help me out of heeeere!”

Zim’s pose loosened back, and he impatiently rolled his eyes.

“Just come out of there, you!” he put his hands on his hips, like a strict parent giving her a scolding, “If I don’t see you back on land in _five seconds,_ I’ll leave you here!”

“Aw, geez!” Driver hobbled out of the water as fast as her frozen limbs allowed her to. “I don’t know what’s colder, you or this water!”

She walked back to him, shivering, the sand grains sticking to her wet feet, the mild warmth of the ground feeling pleasant on her frozen skin.

Zim looked up and down, between her feet and her face, in that same ‘scolding-parent’ pose.

“Do we need to amputate?” he sarcastically asked.

“W-well, _actually,_ I've heard putting your feet in frozen water is very healthy for blood circulation!” she explained, somehow pushing through the crippling shivering of her body.

“I'm pretty sure _not freezing_ your limbs is much healthier than putting them in a frozen, filthy puddle of water!”

Driver let out a silent chuckle and nodded, another shiver shaking her; she curled her toes, and moved her feet in the sand so that it’d bury them and help her dry faster.

Zim’s expression softened, noticing her discomfort.

“Er... do you need a towel? A blanket?” he proposed.

“Nahhh, it's fine!” she smiled, “I can wipe them in the grass-”

“NO!” Zim barked, “Stay here. And _don’t move._ I’ll bring you something to wash yourself with”.

And with that, he used his PAK legs to climb up the hill and into the ship.

Driver let out another silent giggle.

_That was totally worth it._

  
  


"Now that that unnecessary tangent has been closed, let's focus on our _real_ job!" Zim impatiently tapped his foot on the grass, “Or do I have to expect you to run off to the mountains _too?”_

“Of course not, chief!” Driver saluted him, tapping the heels of her boots together, “I’m fully ready _and_ focused on finding the lab!”

“ _Good._ Because if you freeze yourself again, _I won’t be there to help you”_ he narrowed his eyes at her. _“Now...”_

Zim turned his scanner back on, setting the coordinates again.

“ _As I was saying_ , the lab must be _very_ close, and it _must_ be underground. We have _that, at_ least. I was almost afraid I'd have to work _outdoors"._

 _Oh yeah. How awful would have that been...,_ she falsely lamented.

Zim turned on himself, holding the scanner up in front of his face, looking through his screen, the sensors on the other side analyzing the environment around them. He started walking back towards the ship, and Driver followed him.

As they walked past it, Zim's scanner picked up on _something_ to the left.

When they turned around the hill behind the ship, it became obvious where the laboratory was: there was a _metal door_ there, embedded in a grassy hill, completely disharmonious with the rest of the scenery.

Driver smiled, as it reminded her of a _hobbit's_ house, only with a metal, futuristic door for an entrance, and no windows.

Zim raised the key and inserted it into the lock, right in the middle of its handle wheel. He turned it to the right, and the mechanism inside clicked.

He put his hands on either side of the handle wheel and tried to turn it: it didn't even budge.

He tried to turn another time, a third, a fourth, his efforts accompanied by a series of increasingly more frustrated _'Ngggh!!!'s._

"Alright, wait up" Driver stepped in.

She stood by the wheel's right, and grasped that side firmly.

"You push from there, I’ll do it from here" she instructed him, and he positioned himself accordingly.

"On the count of three, two, one-"

Driver pushed down on the handle, putting all her weight on it, while Zim pushed it up from the opposite side: the wheel handle finally rotated, a loud metallic sound coming from inside the door.

From there, they started rotating it with their hands, synchronizing their movements, the task getting easier and easier as they went on.

Finally, the mechanism emitted the same sound from earlier a second time, and the door creaked open towards the outside.

A strong, _cold_ air current rose up and hit them , carrying with it a distinct smell of _damp,_ and _mold._

Like the breath of an ancient monster, buried inside the earth.

Both shivering at that chill wind touching their skins, they cautiously peeked through the dark aperture: the only thing visible from there was a flight of stairs, descending down into the ground.

Zim was the first to step forth: he lead the way down the dimly lit, dusty stairs, his walk confident despite that creepy first impression, eyes wide open and antennae up and attentive.

That tunnel was a little too _low_ for Driver, and she found herself forced to bend her head forward as she climbed down the stairs; luckily at least, it wasn't as dark as she _thought_ it would be going down: along with the light coming from the sun above, there seemed to be some kind of faint illumination coming from below, too; it turned out to be an open door, right at the end of the stairs.

They crossed its threshold, stepping into the underground chamber: the faint light they’d seen came from a _second_ underground door, located exactly opposite to that first one on the other side of the room.

Driver’s eyes, still used to the bright, sunny day outside, couldn’t make out but some vague, dark silhouettes in that dim light.

Zim tried to put a remedy to that, clicking on a light switch on the wall to his right, but nothing happened: the power had been cut out.

He then opted for a much simpler, more immediate solution, and used the flashlight from his PAK instead to illuminate the room: it was larger than she had expected, at least three times the control room of her own ship, not to mention there were four more chambers other than that one, with that open door in the bottom, two closed ones on the left, and one more on the right. As for the room they were in, there were two big tables on either side, chock-full with all sorts of weird instruments; Driver couldn’t quite tell what exactly they were, both because she wasn’t at all knowledgeable about laboratories, _and_ because they were _completely_ covered in a thick layer of _dust,_ and what looked to be _spiderwebs. Everything_ in the room was, really, from the floor, to the ceiling lamps above, to the cabinets against the walls; not to mention the smell of _mold,_ which down there was even worse than the one the wind had carried up.

Zim moved the flashlight left and right, mouth agape and eyes widened in an expression of shock as he scanned the dusty, dark room; his light hit a particular point on the floor, and a big, black bug scurried with its little legs under a cabinet nearby, frightened.

 _“Zim”_ Driver whispered, “I think I just saw your _uncle_ running under that cupboard”.

Zim gave her a nasty glare: he either didn't get her joke, or was in no mood for laughter. Probably _both._

"Look at this _place!"_ he exclaimed, his feet angrily tapping on the floor as he walked further into the room.

“Yeahhh...” she probed a table’s surface with her finger, and she scooped up a big dust ball, leaving a straight, clean trail behind. “Damn. It's more dust than _metal_ in here” she commented.

“It's _unusable!”_ Zim squeaked, looking over the instruments on the tables as he balanced himself on his PAK legs.

“Aw, don't be like that! It's just a little _dust!_ And mold. And _cockroaches-”_

“It's completely _contaminated!"_ Zim yelled back. “And who _knows_ if the lights and heat even _work!”_

“Don’t be so negative, Zim!” Driver reassured him, walking over to look at the room beyond the open door. “I’m sure everything is functional despite how it looks. Mister Krassmann would never hand us something that doesn’t work!”

“Oh, sure! He’s _aaall_ about functional, yet he _was_ completely fine with handing us this… this _shack,_ full of _dust and mold!”_ Zim retorted behind her.

“Well- _oh, wow”_ Driver breathed out as she looked at that second room. “Come look at this, Zim” she called to him.

Zim joined her on the platform she was standing on, immediately beyond the open door. The room it lead to was, to say the least, _huge:_ its floor was way lower than their level, a long metal ladder to their right leading down to it; immediately noticeable was a big, round platform, approximately in the center of it, with two big machines on either side: one reminded her of a miniature crane, while the other had three metal arms attached to it; positioned in a circle concentric to the platform were more desks with computers and monitors: that was probably a bay for the reparation and construction of ships, like the one under her house, but much bigger and more advanced; behind it all, in the opposite wall of the room, was another big, closed metal door.

But it was the walls _around_ the room and _the ceiling_ above that captured her attention the most: the walls of the room were made of _stone,_ the same dark stone she’d seen outside.

 _We’re inside the cliff, the one on the shore,_ she deducted , _they probably built the lab inside a cave underground._

The stone walls had been excavated in a semi-square shape, which rose up above them, becoming progressively smaller until it reached the ceiling. There, embedded in its stone, was a big, circular skylight: the source of light that illuminated both rooms from within; its metal frame was arranged in an elegant floral shape, and behind its glass was the blue, clear sky of the planet.

“Are you still calling this a _shack?”_ Driver asked Zim, cocking an eyebrow up.

“ _Yes I am!”_ Zim barked, turning his head sharply at her. “Look at this place! It’s a complete _mess!”_

“But it's so big! And _cool!_ You can even see the _sky_ while you work!" she pointed at the skylight.

“That _useless, fancy_ glass ceiling is the REASON why this place is so moldy and dusty! _Look!”_ he pointed at a patch of the skylight between two metal bars; now that she looked at it more attentively, she noticed that there was no _glass_ in it: it had probably been broken.

“That _hole_ let all the water and wind and mold and _dirt_ in!” Zim continued, and he pointed at something below her, on the floor.

“ _Look!_ There’s even a _puddle_ on the ground!”

Driver followed his finger to find that yeah, there was. A big puddle of _murky_ water, to the bottom left of the circular platform, the floor all around it ruined by the dampness. How had she _missed_ that?

“This is gonna take _forever_ to clean up and fix!” Zim continued, his voice sounding desperate and frustrated.

“Aw, Zim. I know it looks like a lot, but it’s not as bad as it seems!” Driver reassured him. “We’ll tidy this all up in no time! I thought you _liked_ physical labor-”

"When it's not _superfluous!”_ Zim angrily protested, throwing his little clenched fists up above his head, “This yet _another_ delay on my mission that I _did not_ need!!! I was expecting a _clean_ laboratory! Not this… this DUMPSTER! I KNEW that _Krass-monster_ was gonna play me _dirty!”_

"Oh, Zim I'm sure he didn't imagine it'd be this dirty-"

 _"Well, it IS!"_ Zim shrilled, and his voice cracked on that last syllable; his loud voice echoed through the big room.

Zim let his arms hang limp at his sides; his antennae made a similar motion, falling behind his head, and his expression changed from angry to _discomforted._

He looked down and turned away from her.

“Nothing _ever_ goes right...” he moped, “Why’s everything so _difficult?”_

Driver dropped her smile, her enthusiasm replaced by concern for him.

Oh, man. He really was upset about it, wasn’t he?

She guiltily scratched one of her arms. Had she known that the laboratory verged in that state, and what reaction Zim would have had at it, she would have never goofed off like she had: she needed to make up for it, _now._

“Awww. I'm sorry, Zim” she knelt, and gently hugged him from behind; she kissed his cheek, and rested her chin on his shoulder.

“Let's just focus on getting the lab ready, okay? I'll be _helping_ you. I _promise_ we will finish in no time” she comforted him with a sweet voice. “I know it would be better if we didn't have to do it, but consider this a warm-up before the real work: we can see it as an occasion to get familiar with the equipment! No?”

“… I guess” Zim sighed, relaxing his body in her hug.

Driver kissed his cheek again.

“Okay?” she whispered into his ear.

“Yeah...” he mumbled. “I’m... _sorry_ I yelled...”

“It’s okay. I’d have yelled too if I were you”.

Zim turned his head, and his lips lightly touched hers; she responded with a gentle peck, and his mouth tried again to grab at her lips. He was about to turn around, too, supposedly to kiss her _better,_ but she pushed herself up from his shoulders and stood back up.

“The pleasure is supposed to come _after_ the duty, _Romeo”_ she grinned down at him.

“Uh-” he confusedly frowned, “ _Who?”_

 _“_ _Alright!”_ she clapped her hands together, “Let's go about this with order. Let's start with the rooms in the back: we need to switch the lights back on, and to look for cleaning supplies. You take the former, I’ll take care of the latter".

  
  


Following her plan, they went back into the smaller chamber and inspected the other three rooms: the ones on the left were a ‘bedroom’ with six cryogenic beds, stocked one on top of each other in pairs, and a bathroom with a toilet and a shower _very_ similar to the ones from Earth (“Woah! This place is _deluxe!”,_ Driver had commented); the one on the right was a _storage room,_ where they found the small electric generator that powered the first floor’s lights, as well as the cleaning supplies. And while they were finally able to illuminate the place by turning the generator on, the supplies were completely unusable: they rags and mop were so rotted, dusty and molded, and the detergents so old, they would have probably _dirtied_ the place even more instead of cleaning it; ao in the end, they ended up borrowing all the necessary from Driver’s ship, including a whole separate garbage bag to dump the dust and spiderwebs in: had they tried to suck all that stuff up with the vacuum, they would have undoubtedly _clogged_ it.

The first thing they cleaned were the tables, one for each. Zim had convinced her to put on gloves for once (“If you don’t I’ll _never_ let you touch me with your bare hands again!” he’d threatened her), and she’d found that plucking out the first layer of dust with her fingers was a much smoother job than going in with the rags directly: the first poor piece of cloth she’d used had been reduced to something very similar to a _dead old rat_ with the first three swipes.

That hadn’t discouraged her, however: she’d soon found her pace again, and diligently worked to get all the dust off those weird alien instruments, one by one, careful not to somehow ruin them or break them. It might have sounded like a tedious job, but she didn’t mind it at all: she liked to work with her hands, and she liked cleaning up and reordering things.

 _Zim,_ however, seemed to be in a pretty sour mood: even with the bright, yellow ceiling lights on, his expression was so _dark,_ working there at his own table with his eyes down, a sulky expression on his face. What could she do to distract him?

Then, as she got to clean the third or fourth object, she realized she’d found something that might have just done the job.

“Heyyy, Zim!” she called to him, “I might be mistaken, but… isn’t this an _audio amplifier?”_

“Mmm?” he turned his head up to look at the object in her hands. “It seems so” he confirmed.

“Hmmm…” she thoughtfully examined it. “Do you think it would work with my mp3 player?” she asked.

She’d brought it down there with her, just in case she’d have to work far from Zim and get bored, and one of the ports on the audio amplifier’s side _looked very_ much compatible with its USB connector.

“Yeah, sure. It’s a _universal_ amplifier. That means it goes with _everything_ ”

“Oh… Are you sure? The Earth and its technology are pretty isolated” she doubtfully looked between the port and the connector. “I don’t think ‘universal’ should be taken literally-”

“ _Of course it should!”_ he dismissively waved a hand at her, while the other kept on cleaning, “Words have meanings! What’s the point of ‘em otherwise?”

_Well. That did make sense! … sort of._

Driver turned on the audio amplifier, and plugged the mp3 player into its port; she selected the right song, and hit play.

Sure enough, the audio amplifier worked perfectly, even with that admittedly _primitive_ Earth device, and _Holiday’s_ guitar-and-drums intro resonated out of its speaker and into the room.

Zim turned his head up again, confused, his antennae high up on his head.

“What are you doing?” he asked.

“This place is so _gloomy_ and _quiet. Music will help warm it up!”_

“It’s _distracting”_ he pouted, going back to his task, _“Turn it off”_

_Yeah. That’s the point._

"How is it distracting? We’re just _cleaning!_ It’s gonna make us go faster!”

“Pfff!” he scoffed, “How can _music_ make us go-”

‘ _Say, hey!’_ BJ Armstrong’s voice sang from the two combined instruments.

“Ohhh, _here it comes!”_ she urged Zim to shush as the music’s pace picked up, becoming faster, louder.

“There! Just focus on the rhythm, and your body, too, will follow it! It’s _scientifically proved,_ you know?” she explained.

Zim’s frown deepened as he removed a particularly large spiderweb from a drill-shaped object.

“Whatever. Fine. But don’t turn the volume any louder” he grumbled.

‘ _Hear the sound of the falling rain,_ _coming down like an armageddon flame-’_

“I thought you _liked_ this song, Zim” Driver retorted, annoyed that he would force her to talk over those catchy vocals.

“Ehhh” Zim shrugged, “It’s _okay. But_ I don’t really wanna think about ‘holidays’ while I’m working”

“It’s not _literally_ about holidays” she explained, “It’s an anti-war, anti-government song”.

Zim’s face contorted in an expression of absolute contempt.

“ _Of course it is._ You humans can’t do _anything_ right, can you?”

“Hmmm. _Very well”_ she maliciously grinned, “If the _subject_ of the song is the problem, how about this one?”

Driver stopped the song right before the first chorus could begin, and switched to a different playlist: _the ‘Love’ playlist._

She hit the shuffle option, and the first song started playing:

‘ _So she said, ‘What’s the problem, baby?’ ‘What’s the problem?’, I don’t know, well, maybe I’m in love! (Love!)’_

Zim’s antennae perked up, the music distracting him again from the cleaning.

“Nooo-” his frown deepened.

‘… _I think about you day and night, it's only right, to think about the girl you love. and hold her tight. so happy together...’_ the song changed.

“ _No! Stop!”_ he shrieked, “Turn it off! This one is even _worse!”_

“’Worse’? ‘Worse’ how?” she chuckled.

‘ _...Til the end of time, Yeah Iiiii, will LOVE you, BABYYYYyyyy, Aaaaaaaalwaaaaaays, and Iiiii'll be there, Foreeeever aaaaand a day, aaaaaaalways-’_

“ _Aaaahhh! This isn’t fair!”_ he recoiled like a vampire before holy water, hands pressed against his ears, face turned to one side as if to hide it from her.

“It’s not my fault you were _embarrassed_ about your music! And now you’re trying to even that up!”

“Nooo...” she lied, barely containing her laughter. “Why would you be embarrassed at this anyway? Is there something in these songs you can relate to?” she evilly smirked.

Zim timidly peeked from behind his arm, hands still pressed on his ears.

“… How about _you, uh?_ It’s _your_ music after all” he insinuated.

“Hahaha” she chuckled, “A little bit, yes”.

Zim stared at her in that same position, his cheeks all flared up, as she switched the song back to ‘Holiday’, from the top.

“Let’s just listen to something more _neutral,_ shall we?”

“Okay, _fine!”_ Zim spat. "ONE song, that’s it! And believe me, I won't be taking ANY pleasure in it!"

The veracity of Zim’s assessment eventually became dubious, as the mp3 player’s whole musical library was listened to thrice over course of the two days they spent cleaning up and fixing the lab.

After they wrapped the work on that first floor up, some time later on the first day, they descended to ‘floor zero’ as, they named it: like before, the power needed to be restarted, and the instruments needed a good sweeping, only on a much bigger scale. Oh, there also was a whole _puddle_ of water to drain on the floor. And a ceiling with a _hole_ in it.

But first of all, they inspected the room beyond that huge metal door: it turned out to lead to another big cave, this one even closer to the sea, the sound of its waves thundering inside its stone walls; it had been arranged as a parking garage, with at least a dozen of ship-parking platforms built in its floor, all empty: whoever that laboratory had belonged to, had taken everything but their instruments with them. Ironically, because it had been sealed so well, that cave was the cleanest room in the whole structure.

So they divided up their work: Zim got to fixing the ceiling, the very source of all that dust and mold, as well as taking care of the power generator and the furnace, found in a second, bigger storage room, which apparently needed some maintenance. As for Driver, she took up the duties of desk-cleaning and puddle-draining.

And for the whole time, the amplified music from her mp3 served as background while they worked; it was so weird, openly sharing her music tastes with someone after hiding them for so long, but also somewhat _liberating,_ at the same time, especially since he hadn’t paid any mind to the whole thing; in fact, she now felt pretty silly for ever placing any worry on it at all.

Moreover, and it might have just been an impression, but the music really did help them go faster; and at the very least, Zim’s mood had a very evident improvement: as they cleaned and fixed, he soon realized that under all that dust and filth, that was actually a pretty good lab. With that, his enthusiasm slowly returned: his expression lighted up, he started keeping a list of all the instruments in the lab, and would occasionally gush with excitement whenever he found a particularly useful one; sometimes, she would even find him humming to the rhythm of the currently playing song.

She herself maintained a steady, busy rhythm for that first day; but when night came, all of her tiredness hit her at once, and she fell asleep as soon as she lay on her cot. Waking up early the next morning proved very difficult, and her stamina wasn’t nearly as high as the previous day’s.

Zim’s energy, on the other hand, seemed to be inexhaustible: the only pauses they had were their meals, and even then Zim only had a quick snack for the sake of keeping her company; afterwards, he would just go back to work, like it was nothing. Despite her protests, he showed no intention of stopping for the night either, during which he kept on working all alone: she often forgot he had a literal _battery_ on his back, and that thanks to it he barely needed to rest or eat.

 _Obviously,_ though she felt a bit guilty for it, she couldn't keep up with his pace: she’d started out as the one with the most enthusiasm and energy, but by the second day she ended up becoming the most tired and lethargic one.

Later on, sometime into the second afternoon, with her legs all sore and her mind dazed, Driver finally gave up: she slumped onto one of the chairs, and let out a deep, tired breath. The work on the lab was almost done anyway: everything broken had been fixed, the dust was almost all gone, and they’d even un-shrunk all the material they’d bought at Tiyo’s market to build the machine.

She turned the mp3 player off, and looked up at the skylight: the sky outside was still bright. The surface must have looked beautiful, like it had the day before. She huffed with regret: they’d ended up spending both days inside, and she still hadn’t gotten the chance to see more of that planet beside the little patch of land between the lab and her ship. Too bad.

"AHEM. If I _may_ have your attention..." Zim spoke up all of a sudden.

Driver looked up: Zim was standing in the middle of the room, back straightened and feet joined, holding a garbage bag in one hand.

He raised his other hand, this one holding a small speck of dust: he dramatically let it fall in the bag.

 _"THE LABORATORY IS READYYYY!"_ he triumphally roared, throwing his clenched fists up in the air.

 _"With this FILTHY laboratory fixed and cleaned up, I can finally commence conssstruction on the intra-spacial traveling machine, to BRING BACK_ _the Earth and DESTROY ALL HUMANS ONCE AND FOR ALL!"_ his hot loud voice echoed on the cave's walls.

"Yaaaay!" she smilingly clapped "Destroy the humans! Your Plotting Villain Voice sounds especially good today!"

"Why, thank you, Driver-human!" he sweetly smiled back at her.

"But there's still a lot to do!" he assumed a more serious expression, putting his hands behind his back. "This time, there won't be any room for mistakes! Along with making the reaction controllable, I'll have to conduct a few additional experiments: we'll need a secure way to come back from the spacial sacks, of course, as well as a way to locate them. And since so little is known about them, I'll have to do a thorough research of the phenomenon to-"

Zim went on with his explanation, and Driver nodded, getting the gist of it but not the particulars, his speech a little too detailed and technical for her tired brain. Zim eventually noticed that, because at one point he stopped and asked:

“Everything okay, Driver?”

“Oh, sure. I'm sorry” she massaged her closed eyes, “I'm just a bit tired”

“That's quite alright" he nodded understandably. "You’ve worked your ape meats quite a lot. I can wrap up the rest on my own! You can go and rest!”

“But Zim! We need to celebrate your success!” she retorted, “You need some rest too!”

“Aw, shucks!” Zim waved a falsely-dismissing hand at her, “You’re very thoughtful, human, but I don’t need any rest! To be honest, I can’t wait to get to working on the machine right away!”

“That’s fair” she nodded, “I just wish I could help you more. I was barely able to keep up with you today..."

She lifted her face up and let it bask in the sunlight coming through the glass ceiling, eyes closed and body stretching.

"… You really like this planet a lot, don't you?" Zim asked.

"Does it show?" she asked sarcastically.

"You keep looking at that _ceiling window!_ Speaking of which, I should really just remove it and replace with protective rockets…" he thoughtfully added.

"Oh, no, Zim! Please, leave it there!” she pleaded, “It's so pretty!"

Zim confusedly tilted his head, very much reminding her of a puppy.

"What is it exactly that you like so much about it?" he asked.

"The skylight? Well, it's so _bright,_ and it’s just so cool to be able to see the sky above you even though you’re indoors!”

"Actually, what I meant was, what is it about the _outside_ that's so great to you, that you’d want to see it at all times?”

"Oh. Well, it's just...” she struggled to find the aptest words to describe how _gorgeous_ she found that planet to be (if they even existed, that is, which she highly doubted), “the beach, the ocean. The _mountains._ The uncontaminated nature! It’s like I’m back on Earth, only it’s even better! This is almost exactly how I wish my own planet was!”

“I… see… I think” Zim scratched his head in visible confusion. “If that’s the case, why don’t you terraform this planet to suit your taste? It’s already very similar to Earth’s natural state, so it should be easy! I could help-”

“No no, Zim! I could never do that to the plants and animals that already live here! Maybe if I ever find an empty, barren one...”

Zim narrowed his curious eyes.

“Why do you like... _nature_ so much?”

“It's just so... beautiful! It’s- it’s kinda hard to explain, to someone who doesn’t see it" she replied; many aliens seemed to have very different beauty standards than humans, even regarding nature, and Irkens appeared to fit in that category too. "Also, I guess it reminds me of the places from my childhood. Like where my grandparents lived. Or where my parents sometimes took me on hikes".

Zim’s antennae straightened up and his eyes widened in utter surprise:

“You- you have a _family,_ Driver?! Since when?!”

“Uuhhh… since… always? Like, of course I do. _Everyone_ on Earth has one. Even animals and plants, in a sense”

“Oh. Right. I think I remember _reading_ that, somewhere…" he pensively scratched his chin.

"Irkens don't have families?" she asked him.

He shook his head.

"Awww, Zim!" she let out a saddened cry, "You grew up without parents?" _because that would_ _explain a lot,_ she mentally finished.

"Not in the _human_ sense, no. Is your family still on Earth?" he shrugged off her concern, uninterested in talking any further about his own parental situation.

“I suppose so, yes" she confirmed, “Wherever _that_ is now”

“Oh, yeah. Heh, sorry about that" Zim awkwardly apologized.

"It's okay, don't worry!" she shook her head.

"Don’t you miss them?”

“Mmm… ehhh. _Sometimes._ I _do_ miss my grandparents, I guess. There's a lot that I had to pick up on my own that I could have just asked them instead. Y'know, cooking, sewing, farming, gardening. I learnt the basics of those from them"

“I see" Zim nodded.

"Well, fret not, Driver!” he then proudly patted on his chest with his fist. "Once the machine is built, you'll be able to see them again and ask whatever you need to learn!"

“Oh, no, hahaha!” she chuckled, “They're all _dead._ Have been for a long time, since before I went to space!”

“Oh- _oh”_ Zim’s smiling expression fell, “I’m sor-”

“ _Anyhoo,_ as I was saying, this place is _gorgeous,_ and I can’t wait to see and visit it all! Ohhh, maybe I could take a little trip tomorrow! If that’s okay with you, of course!” she went on with her enthusiastic speech.

Zim seemed to be reflecting on her words for a bit; when he spoke again, he did so in a quiet, timid voice:

“... can I... _come too?”_

Driver widened her eyes. She couldn’t have heard him right, no?

 _"What?"_ she asked.

"Well, uh- _actually,_ I’ve been thinking, since you’ve had to stay inside for me the whole time…” Zim looked down, his index fingers shyly circling one another, “We could, uhm… do some… _couple stuff_ together? … this _evening?_ Since there's a _beach_ here, we could take a stroll along it, and, uh- _watch the sunset,_ too, maybe? That way we get to do the couple things _and_ you get to see the planet!"

“Oh...” she breathed out, left speechless for a moment, “I-I mean, yeah, that’d be _great,_ but what about the machine?”

“Hah, well, I’ve been waiting for so long, what’s a couple more hours gonna do? It’s not like the lab is gonna get up and run away while we’re away! … I hope” he let out an embarrassed laughter.

“But… a stroll on the beach, the sunset… it doesn’t sound like your type of fun! We don’t have to-”

“If it’s a thing couples do, I wanna try it! And besides, uhm...” he then added even _more_ timidly, hands behind his back and feet moving left and right on the floor, “This is _your_ success too. I, uhm… would have never gotten here, if it wasn’t for you. If this is something that will make you happy… I wanna be a part of it too”

“Oh my God, Zim...” Driver slowly got up from her chair and approached him.

“That is _so romantic!”_ she squeaked, hands joined and eyes watering.

“Mmmh… I guess...” Zim whispered, his chin now so down it was touching his neck.

Driver jumped forward and squeezed him in a tight hug, her heart overflowing with joy.

“Oh, thank you, Zim! _Thank you so much!_ ” she lulled him in her arms, “It’s gonna be so much fun! Ohhh, we could have _dinner_ out there too, on the beach! It’ll be like one of those super-cheesy dates you see in movies! I could even light up a fire with my _portable bonfire!_ ”

 _"S-sounds good, Driver"_ he barely managed to gasp out, his hand patting on her back.

  
  


Driver adjusted her full backpack on her back, the objects inside clinking together. She looked down, holding out her hand, and Zim tentatively took it. They smiled at each other, and Zim awkwardly held his other thumb up in an ‘OK’ sign.

And then, they started walking. They began from the little grassy decline near the ship, and then along the white beach.

Driver was beyond excited, paying attention to every little detail she laid eyes upon: the waves, the sky, the sand, the grass, the mountains far in the distance: everything was so familiar, yet _foreign_ at the same time. Having the blue grass on one side and the blue water on the other almost confused her sense of orientation at times: it really was like they were walking between two oceans.

So they walked like that, among all that _blue,_ hand in hand, the breeze, the sound of their footsteps and their occasional, brief exchanges being the only sounds they heard.

The only times when Driver didn’t feel like they were the only animated beings on that planet -and they weren’t many- were when they say the local animals: a flock of white birds, flying above the sea on the horizon; a couple bugs buzzing in the area between the beach and the fields; even a pack of… _somethings,_ moving among the grass on a distant hill. The closest they came that day to a creature of that world were the seashells they saw on the beach’s sand.

Driver stopped to carefully look at each and every one of them, no matter how little of a glimpse she could actually catch of them, and always with the same excited and curious expression on her.

Contrary to her expectations, Zim didn’t complain even once: he accompanied and followed her patiently through her every whim, without ever uttering a word unless unprompted. While at first he’d appeared a bit on edge, looking out for any potential alien threat, he’d later relaxed, attuning to her placid, carefree pace. He didn’t look bored, though, like she’d initially feared. In fact, at times he almost appeared… _curious_ in his surroundings. Which was _very_ weird, because Zim had only ever expressed contempt (at worst), or disinterest (at best) for anything non-Irken. Unless of course it was a weapon.

Unfortunately, it became dark fairly quickly: the days on Nortyne 111 were shorter, and the evening came soon, the sun setting to the _east_ of the planet. So Driver picked a spot on the grass field near the sea, laid down a bath towel, the biggest she could find on her ship, and they sat on it, watching the sunset together. Later on, when it became too dark, she lighted up her portable bonfire -basically a small portable oven, only it produced actual flames, like a campfire, which she usually kept in case she got stranded in space.

The sky changed colors, from light blue to a palette of pink, red and orange, just like the one on Earth; the air became chiller, but never cold.

Driver wore her jacket and snuggled closer to Zim, as they ate the very sandwiches he had prepared for her back when she’d gotten hurt by the kid-that-shall-not-be-named; she even got to uncork one of the bottles of champagne they’d stolen from Tiyo, and Zim, probably due to his unusually good mood, had drunk a whole glass of it without complaint.

Eventually, the bright sunset colors were replaced by the black, starry night sky: as Driver had expected, the stars and galaxies were perfectly visible through Nortyne 111’s clear sky, as well as its three moons: out there in the distance, the ocean and the sky became one whole, indistinguishable from one another, while their little campfire painted their surroundings with a bright red light.

Driver’s heart was practically _throbbing_ with joy: she hadn’t taken an excursion in God knows how many years, and to do that with her special person, well… not even in her wildest dreams could she’d ever even imagined that.

Driver put an arm around his shoulder, and kissed the top of his head.

“Thanks for doing this for me, Zim” she smiled, “I know this is not really your thing. Sorry if you got bored”

“No problem. This is actually kinda nice” Zim nodded, his body leaning against hers, “The sea is _fine_ , as long as you look at it from a distance. It’s weird to walk around a planet I don’t want to destroy. Or research to destroy. Also… I didn’t really get why ‘sun-sets’ were considered _ro-mantic,_ but, uhm...” he took a brief pause, as if reflecting on how to properly conveying his thoughts: “I think I get it now. And why you like to _look_ at nature, too”.

Driver looked at Zim with a mixture of surprise and amusement, encouraging with her eyes to go on and explain his reasoning.

“I-I mean, uhm, the _arrangement_ of colors is pretty nice on the eye. So, you know” he moved his hand in circles, looking once again for the right words.

“… yeah. Pretty colors” he concisely finished.

“Awww, really? You’re not saying it to make me happy, are you?” she hugged him tighter, gently pulling him closer to her side.

“I-I mean, uhm” he shyly cleared his throat, yet finding the courage to look up at her in the eye, “I do want to make you happy. But I really meant what I said! Since this is something you like, I thought… there might be some merit to it”.

“Awww, that’s so _sweet!”_ she leaned down to kiss his forehead; she moved her hand on his nape, to affectionately scratched it, and he looked back down, mumbling a muffled “ _Yeah, yeah...”_

“I’m _serious._ This _date_ is actually _so_ _romantic”_ she continued. “What happened to you, hm? Where did you learn how to treat a lady so well?”

“ _Ha!_ I’m an _Invader,_ Driver” he proudly crossed his arms on his puffed chest, trying to mask his underlying embarrassment, “To thoroughly research foreign customs is one of my _many natural talents”_

“Oooh, is it? So...” Driver moved her hand away from him to pick up the audio amplifier with her mp3 player attached: she’d brought it along just in case they’d feel like listening to some music, though that natural silence had just turned out to be too relaxing to ruin.

She showed him the device, and smirked.

“… is music part of your research too, or do you genuinely like it?”

Zim narrowed his eyes at her.

“I never said I _don’t like_ music. Like your pretty _‘landscapes’,_ it can be _pleasant_ on the senses. That doesn’t mean it’s anything more than _noise”_

“Aw, but that’s such a… _reductive_ way to see it!” she shook her head, torn between continuing the argument, and the knowledge that she’d probably be unable to communicate her alien point of view to him. _“_ Doesn't Irk have music?”

“Well, yeah, of course it does!” he retorted, “But it’s not at all like your _emotional, mopey, wimpy_ human music! Irken music is designed to _inspire_ us! Like, to keep our morale up before a battle, or to celebrate our victories on our enemies!”

“ _'Designed'?”_ Driver scoffed, _“_ Such an _unfeeling_ way to put it-"

“Yeah, literally!” he nodded, “We have _computers_ that _design_ the most inspiring music possible! You humans didn’t _invent_ music theory, you know?”

“You use _computers?”_ Driver cocked an eyebrow up, “Are there no _artists?”_

“Obviously not!” he conceitedly denied, “It’s not even a real job! Why waste precious _Irken units,_ coding them as _art-drones?”_

“Mmmh…” she nodded, “Not gonna lie, Zim. That sounds _atrocious,_ in every conceivable way”.

Zim was about to angrily retort something, when she interrupted him:

“But _I am_ curious to hear a song written by a computer. Sing me an Irken song!”

“Er-!” Zim stuttered, his eyes widening in surprise. “... _Sing_ for you?”

“Yeah! Unless you have recorded Irken music to show me!”

“But- uhm, I mean...” he hesitated, clearly embarrassed at the prospect.

“What? I thought you were _proud_ of your ‘inspiring Irken songs’” she grinned. “Now that I think about it, I never heard you sing anything from Irk… only _human_ songs” she thoughtfully tapped her chin with her index finger, “Mmmh, could it be that you actually prefer Earth mus-”

“ _Nonsense!”_ Zim protested, “Irken music is _obviously_ superior! Here, I’ll show you!”

Zim scooped a bit farther from her, sitting on his crossed legs, and cleared his throat again. Driver wondered if he knew how easy it was to manipulate him.

“Oh! And remember:” he suddenly pointed a finger at her, _“If you laugh at me,_ you won’t live enough to see another sun-dawn on this miserable blue ball. Got it?”

“Hahaha!” she chuckled, resting her chin on her palm, her eyes attentively pointed at him.

“ _As if I’d ever allow you a killing blow”_ she winked at him.

Zim scoffed, seemingly flustered before her boasting.

Then he took a deep breath; and he started _singing._

As much as she’d joked around about it, Driver listened silently and respectfully.

Like she’d imagined, it sounded pretty much like a _march song,_ with a fast, catchy tune at its base, which Zim punctuated by clapping his hands on his knees.

The _Irken language,_ as it turned out, sounded pretty weird, at least to her human ears: it was difficult for her to distinguish between different words, and it had a lot of ‘sch’ and ‘oo’ sounds, with occasional harsh, emphasized inspirations.

But what surprised her the most was his singing itself: she would have never expected it, but Zim’s voice was very… _in tune. Melodious,_ even.

Zim went on singing for around one minute, enough for her to get the gist of the song. Once he was done, he timidly looked up at her, nervously waiting for her reaction.

“Wow, Zim” she breathed out, impressed. “You've got a _beautiful_ singing voice”

“Eh, uhm...” he embarrassingly scratched the back of his head, “Thanks”.

“That was actually pretty good! What is that song about?”

“‘The bloody massacre of planet Chotlyn’s firstborns and also all its other inhabitants’. That’s the literal translation of the title, anyway”

“Ah. Uhhh… wellll… at least it _is_ catchy” she commented. “Really makes me wanna go out and slaughter the firstborns of the nearest planet and also the rest of the inhabitants...”

“See? It even inspired _you,_ a human!” Zim pointed out, missing her sarcasm completely, “At least our music has a _practical_ purpose! What's the point of 'sad' music? I can get 'love' music since you humans are obsessed with the stuff, or 'holiday' music, since you like to lazy around so much, or 'anti-war' music since you're such weaklings-"

“Yeah, Zim, I _get_ it” she interrupted him. “Well, _sometimes,_ you wanna listen to music that resonates with your state of mind! It doesn’t have to have a purpose! Sometimes, it’s enough to just _feel_ things, without _doing_ anything!”

“… mmmh…” Zim seemed to reflect on her words for a while, both his hands joined under his chin, his brows frowning.

“But… what about the songs that have no spoken words? How do you know what it’s supposed to make you feel? Especially without even the title telling you?”

“Well, I guess it's on you? And it depends on the melody itself?” she shrugged. “Hey, wait… you mean I have something like that on my mp3? Where?”

“Here, lemme show you”.

Zim picked the mp3 player from her lap, pressing on its buttons to look for the right song.

“Here” he finally said, “This song, for example, is titled ‘The Tale of Beren and Lúthien’. But there are no words! What am I supposed to do here? Invent a story for it myself?”

“Oh? Oooh, I love that one!” she smiled, “But that’s the acapella version! I totally forgot to download the original back then, but that one does have lyrics! Aaahh, I still remember the original _YouTube video_ it’s from! It’s actually a _fansong_ of an old _love poem,_ first written in ‘The Book of Lost Tales’ by J.R.-”

“ _Driver!_ Driver...” Zim waved his hands at her, and shook his head, looking completely lost.

“I don’t have the slightest idea what you’re talking about, and you know it. Just cut to the important part, and tell me what it’s about”

“Hahaha! Well, ok. The _important part,_ is that the original version has _words_ in it. It's a _love_ story-”

“But _of course_ it is”

“-about a mortal man who falls in love with an elf girl”

“An _elf?!”_ Zim scoffed, “You mean one of Santa's slaves?”

“Hahaha, no, no!” she chuckled, _“These_ ones are more like, uhm... _forest spirits._ Or, uh... an _angel-human_ mix... or-or a _demigod!_ Irkens do have some kind of _religion_ and _spirituality,_ no?”

Zim slowly nodded, looking absolutely dumbfounded.

He gave up midway, pretending to understand what was being discussed, and more honestly shook his head.

“Well, what's important is that elves are magical and immortal, okay? So Beren sees Lúthien, or _Tinúviel,_ as he nicknames her, dancing in a forest, and they fall in love. There’s a bunch of adventures that happen in the middle, but in the end they find each other again! Only Lúthien has to give up on her immortality to stay with him!” she excitedly explained, “The song is very sweet, especially this version here! I wish you could hear the full song, with the lyrics!”

“Mm-mh” Zim nodded, “That _does_ seem pretty interesting” he commented. “Do you know the words?”

“I used to, yes” she nodded back, “That’s why I only downloaded the voiceless version. I used to sing it to myself a lot!”

“I see” Zim smiled.

He kept staring at her.

She stared back at him.

“… well?” he asked, after a while.

“… ‘well’ what?” she asked, confused.

“… you’re not gonna sing it for me?”

“Uh- _what?!"_ Driver exclaimed, unwittingly having the same reactions has he’d had.

“Yeah, come on!” he encouraged her. “I _sang_ for you. Now you do it for me!”

“Y-yeah, but, it's- I-I don't sound as good as you do!” she retorted.

“Oh, _please!”_ he dismissed her worries with a shake of his head. “Even if you sound bad, I’ll pretend to like it!”

“Uh. Very _comforting...”_ she mumbled. “Anyway, I doubt you’ll like it. It’s a sappy love song. You don’t-”

“Oh, come onnn!” he whined, “You made me all curious about it, and now you won’t show it to me? It’s just you and me!” he spread his arms apart, showing her the empty, dark environment around them, “What are you embarrassed for?”

“I’m not _embarrassed!”_ she lied. “Okay, _fine._ But _do not_ complain if you find the song too sweet, alright?”

“Deal!” Zim decisively nodded.

He handed her back her mp3 player, and she looked down at it, dubious.

She _was_ pretty enthusiastic about showing Zim the stuff she liked. And that day, he’d seemed to appreciate _everything_ that she’d thrown at him. But _this-_

She looked up, and saw him, expectantly staring at her.

_Oh, come on. Don’t be such a child. It’s just singing. He already did that for you, too. Why be so shy now? More than Zim?! It’s so unlike you!_

Face red, Driver pushed through her embarrassment, and turned the mp3 player on.

When the sweet music started playing, with its harp and its flutes, coming out of the audio amplifier’s speakers, she couldn’t believe she’d actually pressed down play.

She looked up again: Zim was staring at her, his face illuminated by the nearby bonfire, the shadows it formed on his rendering his expression even more needlessly serious and focused than it was.

_This is such a terrible idea. Why did I agree to this? I don’t even sing well! Just turn it off and refuse, no one is forcing you-_

But as the right note played, her mouth moved as if on its own, singing the initial verse, as she still clearly remembered it:

“The leaves were _long,_ the grass was _green,_ the hemlock-umbels _tall and fair_ \- and innn the glade, a light was _seen_ \- of stars in shadow shiii-mmering - _Tin-uuuúviel_ was dancing there, to music of a pipe _unseeeen._ And _light of stars_ was in her hair, and in her raiment glimmering...”

She swallowed deeply: she’d been so embarrassed while singing that first verse, she’d had to knowingly _dissociate_ to sing it correctly, and her throat had become _desert dry._

She looked away from Zim’s chest -she’d been absolutely incapable of looking at his face directly- concentrating instead on her backpack instead, next to the bonfire.

She took another deep breath in: now came Beren’s introduction. She lowered her voice, trying to assume a more somber tone:

“There Beren came - from mountains cold, and lost he wandered uuun-der leaves, and wheeere the Elven-river rolled, he walked alone and _so-rro-wing -_ he _peeeered betweeeen_ the hemlock-leaves, and saw in wonder flowers of gold - up _-on_ her mantle and her sleeves, and her _hair -_ like shadow following..."

Driver turned to look at the valley beyond the bonfire: three moons, hovering high up on the sky, showering the land with their silver; they were so bright, they visibly delineated the hill’s grassy contours.

Driver took in another deep breath, the sight managing to calm her down:

“Enchantment healed his weary feet - that over hills were doomed to roam, and _forth_ he hastened, strong and fleet, and grasped at moonbeams _glistening -_ through woven woods in Elvenhome, she lightly fled on dancing feet... and left him _lonely,_ still to roam, in the silent forest listening...”

She waited again for the musical interlude to end. She was finally getting the hang of it, wasn’t she? Her heart rate too had almost returned to normal at this point!

But as she soon found out, she’d spoken way too soon; she sang the first few words with confident decision:

“He heard there oft the- _uh,_ the sound of feet as light as --- _leaves..."_

While the harmonious music kept playing, Driver abruptly stopped.

Her heart _dropped:_ _crap._ She’d forgotten _she’d forgotten_ that passage. Of course, that song was so long! And she hadn’t listened to it in ages! Why was she so sure she’d remember it?!

Driver guiltily looked up at Zim, her cheeks burning, her thumb on the mp3 main button, ready to stop the music.

“I-I'm sorry” she stuttered, “I-I don't remember this part-"

“It's okay” Zim shook his head, completely unphased by her mistake, and just as invested as he was before.

“Just sing what you remember” he encouraged her.

Driver swallowed again, flustered, but comforted by his words. And continued, following his advice:

“… He sooought her eveeer, wandering faaar, where leaves of yeaaaars - were thickly strewn, by light ooof moooon and ray of sun in frosty heavens shiveriiing”.

She raised her voice a bit for this next part: whoever had cut the voice out of the song, had _mercifully_ left part of the choir intact, so that it’d cover her false notes:

“Her mantle glinted in the moon, as on a hill-top high and far - she danced, and aaat her feet was strewn - a mist of silver quiveriiiing..."

Now cue for a long, musical pause. She looked out in the valley.

At the very least, it complimented that beautiful scenery perfectly. If only it wasn’t connected to her _public humiliation…_

She cleared her voice, ready to sing the last _(thank GOD)_ part of the song. Still, despite all her embarrassment, she tried her hardest to properly communicate the joyful tone of those verses:

“When winter passed, she came aaagain, and her song released the _sudden spring,_ like rising _lark,_ and falling _rain,_ and melting water buuubbling - He saw the elven-flowers spriiing - about her feet, and healed again. He longed by her to dance and sing - upon the grass untroooubliiing”

She took in a big breath, ready for the highest note of the song:

“Again she fled, but swift he came: ‘Tinuuúviel! Tinuuuúviel!’, he called her by her elvish name; and there she halted liiiistening”.

She turned her head towards Zim, and this time worked up the courage, somehow to look at him in the eye.

Zim looked back at her, his eyes wholly focused on her, like she was telling him the most important story in the world.

“… One moment stood she, and a spell his voice laid on her: Beeeren came, and doom fell on Tinuuúviel, that in his arms lay glistening - as Beren looked intooo her eyes - within the shadows of her hair, the trembling starlight of the skies - he saw there mirrored, shimmering. Tinúviel, the elven-fair, immortal maiden elven-wise, about him cast her shadowy hair, and arms like silver gliiimmering”.

Zim made himself more comfortable, resting his face on his palms, his undecipherable eyes still fixed on her.

“Long was the waaay that fate them bore, o'er stony mountains _cold and grey._ Through halls of ireon and darkling door, and woods of nightshade morrowless, the Sundering Seas between them lay, and yet at last, they met once mooore. And long agooo, they passed awaaay. In the forest singing so-rrow-leeess…"

The flute and lutes still played a few notes; after one last whisper from that choir, the song finally came to its conclusion, ending on a bittersweet note.

Driver looked at Zim, holding her breath: she had _no_ idea whatsoever what his reaction might be. Truly, he hadn’t acted so unpredictably since -well, since the time he’d tried to _kill her_ in her own house.

Luckily, she didn’t have to wait for long: shortly after, Zim’s head stretched up from his hands, and he spoke, with _outraged disappointment:_

“... So that's it?! They finally get together and they _die?!_ That's so _lame!”_

“Pfff, hahaha!” she laughed at his exaggerated reaction, “Everyone dies, silly! They still stayed together for a long time, we just don’t hear it from the song!”

“But Tinúviel could have lived forever! That Beren practically _condemned_ her! He _knew_ she would die if she stayed with him, but he ran after her anyway!” he retorted, “That’s so _selfish!”_

“Fair point. But it was Tinúviel's choice to be with him. And Beren also fought to be with her. It’s been cut from this version, but he did!”

“Well, but if elves are so powerful and magical, why didn't Tinúviel just make Beren immortal too?”

“Hmm” she reflected. “I'm pretty sure that's impossible in the universe they live in. Unless you want to literally _damn your soul”_

“That’s just some _cheap storytelling!”_ Zim disapprovingly shook his head, “Just an excuse for the author to shoehorn in his fussy human ‘ _moralitee’!”_

“Haha, wow, Zim! I'm surprised you know so much about _fiction,_ since you care so little about art!” she pointed out.

“I've watched my share of Earth TV to know the basics!” he explained.

“By the way, I think you're taking this too literally” she retorted. “This story is about how people are willing to sacrifice anything for love! And besides, in reality, no one can be with someone else forever! People _die._ And people lose their loved ones. That’s the people this story is for”.

Driver turned off the mp3, grateful that she could finally close that super-embarrassing _chapter,_ and that Zim was apparently not gonna comment on her singing.

“You know, the author wrote this story about his wife. I bet he had thought about how one of them would have to leave the other, sooner or later. So I guess he wrote the story in advance to console whomever of the two would survive the other. In the end, his wife did die before him”.

Zim’s sass suddenly left his face, and he looked at her with his big, attentive eyes again. He’d probably been surprised by that sudden change of tone.

“But Beren and Tinúviel were together till the very end! And they did so ‘sorrowless’. That's way more luck than real people get in life!” Driver tried to end her speech on a more positive note.

She put the audio amplifier and her mp3 player back in her backpack, and closed it.

She took one more glance at the valley spread under the night sky: it was getting late. Soon they would have to hurry up, and come back to the ship and the lab.

Before that, though, there was still one more thing she wanted to do: so she turned off her portable bonfire, readjusted herself on the towel, and lay down, torso on its fabric and legs on the grass, to look at the stars.

To call that jeweled sky _breathtaking_ would have been an _understatement,_ with those uncountable stars and galaxies stretching in the endless depths of space.

“Have you ever tried stargazing, Zim?” she asked Zim.

“No” he calmly replied, “What's that?”

“You just lie down and look at the stars” she explained, resting her hands on her belly. “They look completely different from when you're standing. It makes you realize how small you are compared to the cosmos”.

Driver had expected Zim to spit one of his nasty, snarky remarks about how _'it was just an optical illusion',_ and how she should stop with her _'nonsensical human nonsense'._

Instead, he kept quiet. He scooped closer to her, and lay beside her.

She took a quick glance at him, and saw him calmly looking up at the sky, in her same position, with his joined hands on his stomach.

What was… _up_ with him today? Where had all his Irken _rudeness_ gone? Why so much patience, and _curiosity_ for her human behaviors?

She doubted he would give her a straight answer if she asked: he would have probably denied he was acting weird at all.

Driver had just turned back to the stars, knowing that trying to find that out would be pointless, when Zim went on to speak and ask yet another weird thing:

“Has it ever happened to you, Driver? Someone you loved, dying?”

“Oh, yeah. It has” she nodded.

“Who?”

“Mostly old relatives”

“What is it like, when that happens?”

“Oh, uhm... Well...” she thought so little about it those days, that it was hard remembering the exact sensations and thoughts it had caused in her. Still, she tried her best to describe it to him:

“It's different for everyone, I guess, but for me... it's not something you see right away. You notice it overtime, especially in the little things. Some days you feel like seeing, or talking to that person... _but you can't._ It's natural, I know, but it's still so surreal that people can just... _stop existing._ It's like there's a _hole_ now in your life, where that person used to be, and it can't ever be filled. But you get used to it, eventually” she lastly added in a more positive voice.

“More people come into your life, and your memories start to fade, and in the end you only occasionally ever think about it. It doesn't even hurt at one point, because what you do remember about them feels more like a dream than something that really happened”.

Silence fell for a few moments, Zim seemingly processing and pondering on her explanation.

“I see” he simply replied in the end.

It was probably a hard concept to grasp, for someone who'd never had such an experience. To be fair, death was probably a very hard concept to grasp for _all_ aliens, since they mostly all lived for an absurd amount of time.

Everything turned quiet again, and Driver found it harder and harder to keep her eyelids open. She'd definitely drunk too much, and she would have done well coming back to the ship again if she wanted to spend the night in her bed.

However, Zim came out with another question, distracting her from her intent:

“Driver?”

“Yes?” she sleepily responded, her eyes tired and half closed.

“What was your life like on Earth?”

That question actually managed to pull her out of her sleepy state, her eyes fluttering open and her heart rate increasing.

Few people had ever asked her that question (formulated more as 'What did you do on your home planet?'), and she'd always replied l _ying through her teeth:_ she was completely unprepared to answer with _the truth._

"Oh, hahaha!" she chuckled. "So much time has passed. I can _barely_ remember".

From the corner of her eye, she saw Zim turning his head and looking at her.

"... and?" he insisted. "What _do_ you remember?"

Driver hesitated.

She really didn't want to touch that argument, especially on such a pleasant night. But she didn't want to lie to him either...

"... Oh, Zim. I would _bore_ you" she dismissed him with a half smile. "I was just a normal, ordinary Earth girl, up until they abducted me. The stories I can tell about my life _afterwards_ are much more interesting-"

"But I already know about all that!" Zim retorted, "You always tell me about those, but I have no idea where you come from!"

 _"Well..."_ she turned to him and shot him a suave look and smirk. "Mysterious women are way _hotter,_ don't you think?" she said with a suggestive wink.

Zim didn't laugh, nor appeared to be flustered in the slightest: rather, he looked _annoyed,_ his eyes narrowed and frowning.

"Why is it, that whenever I ask something _serious_ about you, you always change the subject or turn it into a joke?"

Driver blinked, her smile dying on her mouth.

Ooof. _Busted._

"Er-" she stammered. "Because- because it isn't that important! C'mon, Zim, why are you so curious today?"

"Why shouldn't I?" he retorted, rolling on his left side to look at her better. "Of course I'm curious, you're my _partner!"_

Driver didn't turn to him, keeping her eyes pointed up instead.

"There's nothing to know, Zim. I really wouldn't know what to tell you" she mumbled, in a tone she hoped would make clear to Zim that she didn't want to continue that conversation any further.

Zim stared at her for a moment.

Then, he went on to say:

"This is so _unfair._ You always say I should tell you all about myself, especially if it upsets me! And I do, I don't hide anything from you! So why can't you do the same?"

Driver took in a deep breath, and clenched her fists.

Now he was _really_ testing her patience...

"No one is obligated to tell anything to anyone. _Ever"_ she stated, turning to return his gaze.

"Also, I'm not even upset. I'm just _sleepy, a_ nd I wanna go to _bed-"_

 _"Yes you are!"_ Zim retorted, "I can tell!"

 _"No I'm not!"_ she protested, irritated.

"At least tell me _why!"_ Zim glossed over her words, raising his voice. "Why don't you wanna talk to me about your past?!"

 _"Because-_ because, _Zim,_ not everybody likes to talk about themselves!" she raised her voice over his, exasperated to put an end to his questions.

Zim’s expression softened, changing from vexed to genuinely concerned.

“Why don't you like to talk about yourself?”

“I- uh...”

Her and her goddamn mouth. Where had her smooth talk gone to? This was the _third_ time she let something slip in front of him that she wanted to keep secret...

"Look, I just don’t. Okay? Let’s- Let's just _forget_ about this" she proposed, starting to lift herself up with her elbows.

"I gotta go to bed anyway. Tomorrow I-"

A hand gripped her arm, keeping her from getting up.

_"Why are you pushing me away?"_

Driver turned back to him.

He had pronounced that last sentence with such a sad, worried tone, his face and eye matching it, that she became _paralyzed_ where she was, her body still lying on the towel.

“I’m… not _pushing_ you away” she lied.

“You are, though” Zim retorted in a disheartened voice, “It’s like you don’t trust me”

“It’s not that I don’t trust you, Zim...” _I don’t trust anyone at all,_ she mentally finished.

Zim lowered his head and eyes in a shy, maybe even _ashamed_ gesture; the hand on her arm, however, tightened its grip.

“I get why you… wouldn’t… _trust_ me” he murmured very, very quietly.

Driver frowned, confused at his words.

Before she could reply with anything, Zim continued:

“I used to be pretty, uh… _harsh_ with you, in the beginning- and, and, I was…! … _a jerk._ I admit it. But it was all an act!” he spoke with great difficulty, guilt emitting from his every word, “I just didn’t know how to deal, with, er, _liking someone,_ so-”

“But, Zim, what does this have to do with _anything?”_ she interrupted him, sincerely confused by that change of subject.

She lifted herself further up, sitting upright and getting in a more _comfortable_ pose -and _also_ one from which standing up and leaving would have been easier.

“Anyway, as I already told you, it doesn’t matter anymore. We’re well over all of it. So let’s just forget about it and-”

“But that’s the point, you were hurt!” he insisted, moving his hand down from her arm to her wrist.

“I… guess?” she tentatively said, still not seeing the correlation. “But I’m not anymore. And you _apologized._ So it’s all _good_ now”.

Zim seemingly hesitated from a moment.

Then, he took a big breath, and said:

“Like with Earth? And your dead grandparents?”

“Uh-” Driver almost _choked_ hearing those words.

It was so- _so unnatural,_ to hear that subject being brought up as a serious issue rather than a sort of _dark joke._ Her heart even skipped a beat, an uncomfortable shiver irradiating from it and into all of her body, like she’d just been _punched_ in the chest.

Zim’s grip on her wrist loosened, as he switched to holding her hand instead. Her eyes followed that movement, as if hypnotized.

“My _point_ is, Driver...” Zim spoke again, his voice so uncharacteristically full of worry and understanding, “… that I’m _trying_ to be a good partner. I wanna make up for the time I acted like a jerk! I- I wanna be for you what you are for _me!”_

Driver looked down at their joined hands.

Zim’s thumb was affectionately stroking her hand’s back. Above, he was still half-lying on the towel, raised on his elbow, and undoubtedly watching her with an unchanged worried expression. Yet she dared not look back a him.

“I’ve told you so many things that I hadn’t told anyone” he continued. “And, from what I understand, it’s fine! Because partners are _exceptions,_ right? They’re the ones you can always tell anything!… no?” he timidly added at the end, looking for confirmation.

Driver absentmindedly nodded, a silent “Yeah...” escaping her mouth, eyes still pointed down at their hands.

“Also… uhm… heh, I can tell pretty well, when someone is hiding something out of _shame”_ he added, a pinch of self-irony to that statement.

Another sting to her heart. Gosh. Zim wasn’t pulling any punches, was he?

“I get that you don’t wanna talk about it, but… whenever Earth comes up, you look so… _sad”_ he went on to explain, “Like, you do look _happy,_ especially when you talk about what you like about it, but you also, _always_ look _sad”._

Driver kept looking down. Her free hand started picking at the towel’s fabric, and she hoped he wouldn’t notice.

“I just want you to… feel comfortable _confiding_ with me, like I do with you. If something on Earth made you _suffer_ … I’d like to know” Zim pleaded one last time, gently pulling her hand towards him.

Driver let out a half-huff, half-choked laughter, a strained smile on her face. Though there was little she actually felt like laughing about.

She felt so… _upset._ And _ashamed._ No, worse than that, she felt like a _storm_ was going on inside her - _literally,_ her insides were churning out so much, she felt _physically nauseous._

_What’s going on?! Is this ‘Make-Driver-uncomfortable’ Week?!_

She almost considered saying that joke out loud, but then realized just how… _immature_ that would have been.

Driver bit the inside of her cheek. Zim was absolutely right. She constantly went on about how repressing pain and emotions was bad and wrong, yet constantly did it herself all the time. And maybe, most shameful of all… he _was_ a bit right about her not trusting him. And… he _was_ a bit right about her feeling like the better partner.

This whole conversation had come as a huge surprise, too: she would have _never_ expected him to catch onto her real feelings so well, or to try and pry into them.

 _Such a good girlfriend I am,_ she berated herself, _I act like I’m such an expert on relationships, but I can’t even give my boyfriend some basic trust. Like I didn’t try to play him dirty too, in the past…_

“Uh- Driver?” Zim called to her in an uncertain voice, “Did I say something wrong? I-”

“No, Zim” she shook her head. “You’re right. I’m... I'm a _hypocrite,_ heh”.

Driver took a deep breath. After all the effort he’d put in confiding in her, she definitely owed him the same level of trust, too: if he’d done that, then so could she.

So she looked up at him again, trying to put on a positive facade.

“Alright, I’ll tell you. But you have to promise not to judge me. And not to _laugh"_ she forced out a smile at him.

Zim simply nodded at her, a serious expression on his face.

Driver lay back on the towel, mostly so she could have something else to look at while she spoke -the beautiful starry sky above.

Zim kept holding her hand, through all her subsequent speech.

She took another deep breath.

_Alright. Let’s rip this bandage off. Like with the singing._

“My life on Earth was... _unpleasant,_ to say the least” she started, “Especially _near the end”._

She took a moment to think on how to continue: she had never talked to anyone about it, so she wasn’t sure on where to start from, or on how to go about it; she really, _really_ wished she'd at least prepared her speech beforehand.

“I never got along with my peers. So I didn't have many friends. I was, uhm, kind of a _weirdo,_ by their standards, with my... _weird music tastes_ and my passion for nature. Although, that hasn't changed much, has it?”

She ended that first paragraph with a chuckle, throwing Zim a quick, complicit glance.

But Zim didn't laugh: like with the song before, he seemed to be taking all of this so deeply seriously. If at least he'd _giggled,_ like she'd wanted to suggest with that tip of hers, telling all of this would have been so much easier...

Driver looked back up at the sky, this time with the intention not to look at Zim again until she was done with it.

Zim's hand gave hers a soft, quick squeeze, encouraging her to continue.

“My... _parents_ didn't really care for my social life, nor my passions... nor anything that made me happy, to be honest” she continued. “Like, at first, they were _great._ We had our _hikes,_ and our _trips,_ and the _afternoons at the park-_ but as I got older and went to school, everything changed. They became so... _serious._ Like they were my _employers,_ instead of my family. As long as I got good grades at school, and did everything they told me to, they were satisfied... no matter how _lonely_ I was. They had, like... planned my whole life from there on out, and all that mattered at that point was that I followed along that plan-"

Driver ended that part somewhat abruptly: the area behind her nose and eyes had started burning and swelling, like she was about to _cry_ , and her heart had started beating abnormally fast.

She squinted, and took another deep breath.

Why?! Why was this so upsetting for her?! She barely ever thought about her old life and the people in it anymore. And so much time had passed since. She was absolutely sure she was well past all of it! She _should_ have been! So why was she fighting back actual _tears_ now?!

And yet, instead of closing up, like she usually did, she ended up going on and saying even more than she planned to:

“When my grandparents all passed away, it became even worse. I couldn't go to the countryside anymore, the only safe place I had left. I, uhm-”

She had to close her eyes, and collect herself. Those faces and sights she hadn't seen in such a long time, and that she would for sure never see again, came all flashing in front of her. Any more talking, and she really would have cried.

Her free hand scratched her eyelids, wiping a tear that had just formed.

“... I never saw them again. Ever. My life now was all in the city. With all its grey and concrete and foul air...” she murmured.

“I had a bit of a _rebel_ phase after that, and as you can imagine... my parents didn't take it well” she went on to tell. “When my grades dropped, they became _so_ angry. My home life was _hell._ They would always scream at me, and say such... _nasty things._ A couple of times they even-” _(hit me)_ “... _got physical._ Near the end, they basically locked me up in my room, without any of my stuff besides my school books. Until I became the _perfect daughter_ again. It was the most miserable time of my life. Good thing it didn't last long, but still... by that point, I would basically cry myself to sleep every night. Hoping that I would somehow wake up in the world of my childhood the next day..."

She squinted again, pushing back another possible fit of crying. She realized now that her hand was _very_ wet. Zim couldn't really feel it, of course, since he was wearing gloves- but that _also_ meant it was all her, producing that sweat, wasn't she?

Her other hand tugged at her shirt.

"Heh, well, let's be real though" she breathed out a forced chuckle, "I kinda had it coming, didn't I? If I hadn't been so shy and awkward, the kids in school wouldn't have picked on me. And if I had stood up for myself from the start, I wouldn't have wasted my childhood trying to appease my parents. I was so weak, back then... and _pathetic,_ and _naive,_ and _stupid._ I really thought the school and my parents had the whole _world_ in their hands".

She swallowed, and took a good look at the sky above her.

She smiled then, the starry sky reminding her what had come next.

“But then, a bunch of alien criminals _abducted_ me, and brought me together with them, _among the stars._ And just like that, _puff!_ That life I thought was all set in stone for me was completely swept away! Like a leaf in the wind, or... a dirty, empty plastic bag in the wind I guess, hah!” she smugly scoffed.

“I joined their gang for a while; then I set up my own little business, and began building my house. And you know what I learnt?”

Driver lifted her hand to the sky, in a triumphant, liberating gesture.

“School and jobs and money and laws and all that crap _don't matter_ in the real world! They're all _made up!_ _This_ is real!” she waved her hand around, grossly pointing at the natural landscape that surrounded them. _“This_ is the real world! _The sky and stars and plants and sea and wind, and bugs! They_ don't care about all that stuff! _We’re_ the ones that made it all up, and who force each other to live by the rules! But none of it _matters_ to the Universe! _This_ is the life we were made for! If you’re just brave enough and get past all your preconceptions, you can literally do _whatever_ you want, and _no one_ can stop you!"

She squeezed Zim's hand tight, excitement swelling in her heart.

"From then on, I vowed to live my life however I wanted. _And that's exactly what I did._ I realized that all the things that had been drilled in my head were _lies,_ that held me back! I became _stronger,_ and _smarter._ And now _look at me!_ I have my own business, and my own home. I have the _free life_ I've always wanted. I know I've sworn off ever seeing my parents again, but I'd _die_ to see the faces they’d make, knowing I could only become happy and independent once I got literal light years away from them! Although, well. They would probably _disapprove,_ since it was all my choice and not _theirs"._

She finally turned to him, now that she was sure she could take his gaze without breaking in tears.

But his expression totally took her by surprise.

She had imagined _pity_ on his part, or _confusion,_ or even _dismissal._ Instead, his expression was just... _neutral._ Like before, when he’d listened to her song.

“I don't think you should hate your past self so much, Driver” he said.

Driver blinked, taken aback by his words.

“I mean-” he lifted himself up again with his elbow, and scooped a little bit closer to her. His other hand remained well gripped around her.

“-Even if _Past-you_ was weaker and less experienced, she was the only one who could ever become _you!_ You see any of your other school-mates, flying their own space ships, owning their very own planet? Of course not! They all remained on their filthy little planet, living their miserable, ordinary Earth lives!” he smiled at her, voice full of... _admiration._

“That means that even back then, Past-you was amazing in her _own_ right! And also, well-"

He squeezed her hand, holding it now with both of his.

“... the one fated to become the amazing Present-you definitely didn't deserve anything she got from her puny schoolmates, or her ill-suited parental units”.

Driver stared at him for a moment. Speechless.

“Hah, I hadn't, uhm...” she looked down, sliding her face on the towel, and looking away from him before he could see her _yet again_ wet eyes.

“I had... never _considered_ that...”

“You _should_ have!” Zim smiled at her.

He passed an arm under her neck, and got his hand on the back of her head. With that, he gently nudged it towards him.

“You know, _I_ have been to Skool, and I agree that it’s just a bunch of nonsensical junk learned _and_ taught by vapid, stupid people! You did _very_ well escaping! And you did it all on your own! _A lonely human in space!_ With _no_ military training! That's simply _amazing!_... you know you're amazing, right?"

“Heh” she chuckled.

She felt a tear, streaming down her cheek. When had anyone last told her a compliment like that? She honestly couldn’t remember...

“I wish I had your confidence, Zim...”

“My human should _definitely_ have my confidence!” he excitedly remarked. “Come onnn, say it! Say you're amazing!”

“Hah… I am... uh... _amazing,_ hehe-" she somehow managed to say. She didn’t know if the hiccups she was talking through were _giggles_ or _sobs._

She didn’t really _feel_ that way, but as long as _he_ did... it was more than enough, for her.

“Of course you are! You are _Zim's_ human!” he echoed, like those words had been her own idea. “And, I know I'm not supposed to say it, because being a criminal is dangerous and all, but I'll make sure you _never_ feel like you felt on Earth again! I promise!” his hands gave hers another squeeze, his voice sounding endlessly positive and confident.

Driver wiped her eyes.

She looked up at him, through her glassy gaze.

“Be careful with those words, chief” she murmured. "I think I really am falling in love with you”.

Zim widened his eyes at her, his bravado seemingly leaving him all at once.

“Uh-”

Driver snuggled her face in the crook of his neck, and hugged him tight with one arm.

“ _Thank you”_ she said, pressed against his warmth.

“Heh, no problem!" he awkwardly replied.

“I'm, uh. I'm sorry your _parents_ were mean to you”

“Its’ fine. I don’t need them”

“Ha! Clearly you don’t! They _were_ holding you back! You're way better off without them!”

“Thanks for saying that. It means a lot for me to hear that. Uhm… I'm sorry, Zim. For being so childish, and for… _underestimating_ you. I-I didn’t think you..."

“Could understand?” he finished for her. “That's fair. I'm kinda surprised at myself, too. But it's fine if we're both evil, right? Only between evil people can we sincerely vow not to be evil at each other!”

“Hahaha! I suppose so” she nodded. “I'll never doubt you again. I swear”.

Driver closed her eyes. She listened for Zim’s heart, beating under her ear. She felt so comfortable, so secure, so… _liberated,_ and _free,_ that she relaxed to the point of nearly falling asleep.

“Uhm. Are you sleeping?” he asked her.

“Hmm, no...” she moved her head up, so that her face was next to his.

“I'm just resting my eyes. I'll go to bed in a bit... Let’s just stay like this for a little bit...”

But the very next moment, her tired mind had already forgotten what she’d just said. A few minutes later, she’d already drifted off to sleep.

  
  


  
  


Zim's ruby eyes blinked in the dim moonlight.

He tried ever so slightly to move his torso, and the arm wrapped around it limply budged with it. He listened for Driver's breath, and found it to be slow and regular: she had definitely fallen asleep.

He supposed he should have woken her up. Or maybe tried to carry her back to her bed.

He lifted his antennae up, and they picked up the light vibrations of a gentle breeze. He couldn’t really see much from where he lay, but the entire valley around them sounded still, calm and quiet.

_Just a few more minutes. What's the hurry anyway?_

Zim looked up, at the starry sky. Driver was right: looking at it from down there was completely different from when he was in a space ship, or standing up. The biggest difference was, it didn't look like a distant, flat background: it looked _deeper,_ and _all-pervasive._ And it kept _changing._

At first, it was giant dome, erect high above him. But as his eyes focused, the space between the stars began to _dilate,_ until it became like a dark, bottomless _ocean, swallowing_ him from every direction.

At one point, he was so engrossed in that view, he became completely incapable of distinguishing up from down, or of telling if he was still lying down or if he had stood up.

Zim's body instinctively jerked, and he held onto Driver's arm: for a moment there, he'd felt like he was about to slip forward and _fall_ into the space above him, like he'd been standing on the very edge of a never-ending cliff.

He squinted, finding relief in the contact with Driver's body, and the ground under his back.

When he opened his eyes again, he turned them to Driver: her face, rested a mere inches from his, wore a content, peaceful expression, the soft moonlight painting her features; below it, her shoulder rhythmically rose and lowered; from her mouth came a faint, sweet aroma of wine.

His hands gripped the fabric of her sleeve.

‘ _It’s because I love you’_

‘ _I think I really am falling in love with you’_

His mind replayed those words over and over again, like a loop, had done so with the first one for _days, continuously,_ since she’d first uttered them.

Without any real intention or active effort on his part, his neck stretched forward and his mouth pecked her lips with a light kiss.

He drew back, his eyes still lingering on her.

Now it was clear, why she always knew exactly how he felt. She had been bottling up a lot of

_(sadness)_

_(loneliness)_

_(shame)_

too, hadn't she?

Seeing her being so sad about her past had _broken_ his heart. But being able to console her had filled him with joy and pride: finally, for once, he’d been able to return, at least in part, what she’d done for him. Now, he felt, they were finally _even._

He turned back to the sky, this time careful not to focus too much with his eyes, lest he 'slipped forward' again.

Staring up now at the stars, he felt completely devoid of any emotion, but... _not in a bad way._ It was more like anything concerning his mission, or the Earth, or the Empire, or anything else in his life was light years away, in space _and_ in time, un-urgent, _unimportant._

Normally, he would have probably felt ashamed, or even _horrified_ of feeling such apathy for his duties, but even such emotions were too away for him to care.

The Universe could have ended right now and here, and he wouldn't have cared.

As long as she was safe in his arms and he was safe in hers.

Whatever it was, that was between them... whatever it was, that he felt for her... it would have never truly died, no matter what. He was _sure_ of that. It would have long survived past the decay of their bodies, past the passage of time, past the collapse of _reality itself._

Or, well. Something like that.

... this uncaring contentment, this absolute confidence and security, no matter what happened... was this... _happiness?_

He had always imagined happiness would have come with fiery explosions and flashing lights, along with the screams of his dying, defeated enemies and the praises of a thousand Irken voices chanting his name.

Instead, this was _quiet,_ and _peaceful,_ and _intimate._ The person by his side wasn't even Irken.

Maybe this was all a delusion coming from the music, the wine, the talk he'd had with Driver, and the starry sky.

Almost _certainly_ it was, but that didn't matter either: for once, he felt like he could allow himself to just enjoy that blissful sensation as long as it lasted.

So he stayed like that, lying down, the stars twinkling above him, and Driver by his side. He didn't sleep, not quite, though he dozed off a couple times, but more from relaxation than real, true slumber.

He spent his time looking at the stars, and at _her,_ and one of the few coherent, concrete thoughts his devoid mind managed to produce, was how _fun_ it would have been, when Driver would have woken up and they could have properly stayed together again.

Eventually, after what had felt like an endless night, the sun slowly rose up again from the west.

The black sky became blue, then pink, then of a blue tint again, this time lighter, the stars and moons progressively fading.

And shortly thereafter, Driver's eyes fluttered open, her arm tightening around him.

When she came to and saw him, still lying in her hug, the first thing she did was smiling at him.

And he smiled back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This fic is becoming more and more self-indulgent. I'm truly sorry if you don't relate to any of this. The good news? Next two chapters are all about what you all came here for: the first tag on this fic.


	20. The Earthling Way of Living (Part 1 of 3)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Zim gets used to living on Driver's planet (most of the time anyway), and learns more about Earth and nature than he ever did on his mission. Maybe a little too much...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for taking so long on this one. And for posting it on accident. Also, before you ask: they do not bone at the end of this. That'll happen in the next chapter. These things take time ok. This chapter does contain a sexual scene, and... I'm honestly not sure whether to mark it as NSFW or not. What do you think?

Irkens and humans were very different. From their appearance, to their culture, to their bodies, to their very way of thinking, there were rifts between the Irken and Earthen races running as deep as their home planets were distant from one another. Zim knew that very well, had known so since he'd first stepped on the Earth' filthy soil, and his mission had subsequently done nothing but providing him with endless proofs and examples of it.

Yet, as he soon found out, it wasn't until he began living, at least for a substantial portion of his daily time, on Driver's small reproduction of Earth, that he fully grasped the true extent, and the core causes and origins of said divide.

Two days following the bonfire, after they'd set up all the things he needed to start his experiments, Driver had shown him something she'd bought back in Tiyo's criminal section along with the equipment for him: an (unregistered, obviously) _teleporting cabin._

After they'd unshrunk it with the Size Regulating Ray in the laboratory's second, bigger room, and plugged it into an outlet, and after he'd thoroughly inspected it (not one part of that machine had been obtained legally or from a single planet: the likelihood of it malfunctioning and disintegrating the user was _extremely_ high), Driver had found that her home was a compatible destination, as she'd hoped.

Once he (reluctantly) gave her the okay, she'd immediately typed in the coordinates for her house and had insisted for him not only to come visit there, but to do so regularly from then on.

Driver, having lived among aliens for a good half of her life, had a great understanding and respect of the different characteristics and habits of other species, and she was obviously a very smart and emotionally intelligent person, but evidently she too had her flaws and limitations: she had in fact proposed that he'd come to her house at least thrice a day, one time for each Earth meal, and at least for one to two hours each, for a grand total of three to six hours of work-free time a day. Very evidently, a _huge_ waste of potential progress.

Zim had replied that he only necessitated thirty Earth minutes of break time distributed during the day, maybe forty if he _really_ wanted to push it, and her face had contorted in an utterly terrified, outraged expression.

Their discussion had gone on, but she didn't seem to understand, no matter how much and how logically he explained, that Irkens didn't need food or rest like humans did: as long as they didn't work more quickly than their PAK could recharge them, they were perfectly able to keep on working in eternity, potentially. Until their meat shells inevitably gave away, of course.

Driver had completely ignored his arguments -they didn't even seem to quite register in her brain-, stubbornly insisting on the importance of self care, and workers’ rights, and the toxicity of work culture, and a whole other bunch of human made-up crap.

In the end though, upon further reflection, he'd realized that maybe that wasn't such a bad idea, and he'd caved in. Not because he needed such a long daily break, but because he knew very well that he would have never been able to stay away from her that long: if he could barely manage that back when he was actively trying to avoid her, he certainly couldn't now that her presence and touches had become a habit.

So they had shaken on that deal: from then on, for as long as he worked on the machine, he would live thusly, swapping between his job in the laboratory on Nortyne 111 and the excessive leisure time on Driver’s planet, with the teleporter acting as a _(potentially deadly,_ as he'd made sure to remark) door.

Driver had stepped in the teleporter cabin and disappeared in a swirl of colors, with the promise to ‘get her house ready' for him to visit a few hours from then, in the afternoon.

Zim had stared at the now empty cabin for a few moments. It occurred to him then, that for the first time since they'd met, they were now technically millions of light years away from each other.

Welp. He already missed her.

Zim had taken a deep breath in.

_Just focus on working. Just focus for a few hours, and you'll be together again._

He had straightened his back and marched to his work station to start the preliminary testing. And even he was surprised to find, that it actually worked: only a few minutes in, and already he was completely absorbed in the experiments, his worries about Driver for now gone from his mind; and the more he worked, the more focused he became; and the more focused he became, the more ideas he got on how to perfect the project; and the more ideas he got, the more excited he became, which in turn motivated him to focus even _more_ deeply, in an endless, self-feeding cycle of both _hard work_ and _euphoria._ No doubt about it: laboratories were, and always had been, his undiscussed natural element.

How he had missed that beautiful, blissful sensation! Of course, that was the first time since months that he worked on something directly correlated to his mission: _obviously_ he would feel so inspired! After so much time, he was finally able to exercise his true life calling of _Invader!_

There was another side to that coin though: when in the end the prefixed time to meet with Driver had come, he had actually felt regretful, almost annoyed at the idea of having to break such a productive, focused work streak.

Yet again... a promise to a partner was a promise to a partner, right? And all he had to do was paying attention to her as she showed him around the house: surely it wouldn't take much, since her planet was so tiny!

So Zim had (albeit with heart-wrenching reluctance) put down his instruments, and used the teleporter to follow Driver to her house.

The first thing he noticed when he appeared in Driver's private teleporter was the big difference in both light and temperature: _bright, warm, golden_ sun rays penetrated through the windows' glass from all around him, their light amplified by the flat, smooth surface of the wooden furniture they bounced off of. That blinding light forced his eyes to squint, and the suddenly warm, dry air made his head feel light: truly a stark contrast with the cool, moist air of the laboratory.

As he stepped out of the cabin, his squinting eyes slowly getting used to the new light, he perceived a movement to his left:

"Hello, _baby!"_ Driver's enthusiastic voice greeted him, "Did you have a good trip?"

"Yeah" Zim replied, finally managing to open his eyes fully and look at her, "Kinda surprised that that thing didn't incinerate me, though".

"Well, I'm glad that didn't happen!" Driver grinned, taking a few more steps towards him. "Though I gotta admit, I did feel a bit more dizzy than usual after I got here!"

"Usually, getting used to teleporters takes at least seventy years" Zim pointed out, "A few more decades, and you'll already be seeing a big improvement".

Driver snorted and giggled at his statement; he was just about to ask what was so funny about it, when he noticed two things about her appearance: one, in the hours they'd been apart she'd made a complete change of attire; she had let her hair down, and instead of her usual, practical jacket, pants and boots, she wore a cute, white shirt with short, puffy sleeves, coupled with a high waist, red skirt whose edge reached just above her knees, and a pair of comfortable, soft-looking brown sandals at her feet. And two, she was holding something in her arms: a sort of furry, white and grey... _mass._

Then _the mass_ turned its head, big green eyes looking at him from the center of its furry face, and he understood what it was.

"Oh... _Cat_ is here too" Zim said, trying his hardest to smile and not look uncomfortable like he actually was.

"Yeah, haha! This boy has been glued to me ever since I got here!" Driver cheerfully explained, one hand stroking Cat's back.

She placed a kiss on top of its head, and Zim barely managed to contain a wince.

"I had missed him sooo much!" Driver snuggled her face against the animal's cheek. "He is such a loving boy, it breaks my heart that I have to leave for work so often! But I make sure to smother him with cuddles every time I get back!"

"Heh... you sure... _do"_ Zim awkwardly agreed.

Then Driver crouched, lowering the cat closer to him.

"Look who it is! It's Zim!" she said with a cheerful, childish voice, "He's staying with us now! Say _hi!"_

Cat pointed its curious, slit-shaped pupils on him; it stretched its neck towards him, its nose twitching as it tried to catch a whiff of his scent.

Zim winced one step back. Were cats poisonous? They weren't from what he remembered, but those slit eyes sure made them look dangerous.

 _"Zim!"_ Driver whispered, as if that way she could avoid being heard by the animal she was holding in her very arms, one inch from her mouth, _"Say hi to Cat! Make him sniff your hand!"_

Zim cringed internally. Did he... _have_ to?

He looked up at Driver's eyes: they were big and bright with fervent anticipation. _Clearly,_ he did.

 _Let's just get this over with,_ he sighed as he tentatively extended one index finger in front of the animal's nose.

Cat sniffed his finger, its nose but an inch from his gloved skin; a dash of pink flashed out of its mouth, and Zim's hand jerked back, narrowly avoiding being licked by its tongue.

"Awww, that's so cute! He still likes you after all this time!" Driver cooed, hugging the cat even closer to her body.

"How _lucky_ I am..." Zim grumbled, warily massaging his hand as if he'd just avoided a bad burn.

Driver stood back up, letting out another giggle.

“You know, we’ve come back just in time for the start of summer. The whole planet is in bloom! It’s so beautiful, you have to see it!”

Zim widened his eyes at her, his antennae perking up.

 _“Summer?!”_ he repeated; she actually replicated Earth’s worst season on her own planet? Though that did explain that high temperature and much-too-bright light that had so rudely welcomed him.

“Does it HAVE to be summer, though? Can’t you, uh… tone it down a little bit? At least while _I’m_ here?” he tried, hopeful.

“Oh, Zim, don’t be ridiculous!” she shook her head. “I can’t just turn the temperature on and off whenever, or my plants and animals will never properly grow! It’s not even that bad anyway!”

 _“Says you...”_ he mumbled.

“C’mon. Follow me” she tilted her head in the main door’s direction.

Zim let out a defeated sigh, and followed her out of her house.

When she opened the door, Zim's eyes were hit by yet an even stronger, brighter blinding ray of sun, so much so that he needed to shield them with his hands to keep them open and actually see the outside.

Against his expectations, what he saw actually did surprise him, and in a good way; they paused there, on the porch, for a few moments, as he took a good look at the field in front of Driver's home.

She really wasn't kidding when she said that the planet was in full bloom: the open field was the same as the one he'd seen not too many weeks before... only _fuller,_ somehow. And _greener._ And _livelier._ Yes, that was it: the grass had at least doubled in length, new flowers and plants had sprouted from the ground, and there were more bugs flying over or jumping among the grass. There were even little birds, dashing from place to place, pecking at the ground for food.

He tried looking up at the sky, but that bright light proved to be too unbearable, even with his hands up to protect them, though he guessed that if he did manage to look up he would probably see a neighboring planet floating in the middle of that blue sky, the only sign that that wasn’t actually the Earth. Along with its small size, of course, apparent just by looking at the horizon line, which was much, much closer to the observer than on a normal-sized planet.

As they walked down the stone steps of the porch, Driver took her sandals off using her feet, and casually started walking barefoot down the cobblestone path.

Zim observed that gesture with perplexity, a single pressing question on his mind: why? Just WHY?! Was this a thing humans (or at least a few of them) did, walking barefoot to feel the ground under their soles? That looked even more uncomfortable than on the beach, since the grass' tips were so pointy! Couldn't she feel them prickling her skin? Maybe it was because of the weather? That would have made sense, and it would explain her change of clothing too: though the heat wasn't as oppressive as he'd feared, and there was a light breeze cooling down his body, he himself definitely wasn't dressed for that high temperature; he felt if he were to hasten his walking pace or make the slightest physical effort, he would have started sweating profusely. He almost envied Driver and her revealing, light-looking clothes!

... _speaking of which..._ those clothes left a lot more _skin_ out than her usual attire, didn't they?

He wasn't at all in on the whole bare feet in the grass thing, but under that wide skirt her legs look even slimmer, even more elegant, and the bright sun light hitting off her skin made them look like they were glowing. It made him want to reach out and _touch_ them-

Zim swallowed as he tried to ignore that bizarre urge, as well as a weird, warm shift in his crotch.

_Stay focused! You’re supposed to look at the planet!_

Maybe he wouldn't have to look at her legs, if she was holding his hand instead of Cat: they had taken up the habit to hold hands whenever they walked together outdoors. But right now that animal was taking up all her... _hand...holding... capacity!_ How annoyingly intrusive! If he could have looked up without burning his corneas, he would have scowled at it. Maybe then it would have gotten the message and gotten out of his _(his)_ partner-ally's hug, and they would have held hands as usual, and he wouldn't be left there with his eyes pointed down, wondering what the rest of her body, too, must look without clothes on-

"SO uh, you brought all of this from Earth, _yes?”_ he abruptly asked, turning his gaze to the animals and the trees that were now in front of them.

“Yup!” Driver chirped. “The criminals who abducted me were in the Animal Trade business, so when I joined their gang they taught me everything about steali- uh, picking stuff up from planets!”

“Oooh, I see!” Zim nodded.

Driver stopped at a sort of middle point on her planet, four different types of enclosures, each holding a different animal species.

“I keep cows, goats, rabbits and chickens. Oh, and a couple beehives! And that's not mentioning the other small critters like bugs and birds, of course" Driver explained.

Zim looked around, recognizing each one of the mentioned creatures. Cows and pigs on one side, behind wooden fences, rabbits and chickens on the other, behind taller retired, each with their own personalized stables and troughs. They all seemed pretty happy and relaxed, either lying down on the grass or walking around at a lazy pace. Looking just as ugly and smelly as he remembered them.

And yet... he couldn't help but feeling a deep sense of nostalgia. He still recalled very well, and maybe even with a bit of tenderness, how hard it had been for him to learn the names and differences between each animal in the beginning. And how Gir would always remind or correct him on that, as the (sometimes) good SIR unit that he was. And of course, all the experiments he had run on each species.

“And, what do you use them for?” he asked.

“Milk, eggs, and meat, pretty much. I also trade them for more food or monies. Some people pay a lot for rare foreign animals!" she replied.

Ah, yes, of course. _Milk, eggs and meat._ He still remembered attempting to sabotage the production of all three. Those had been especially fun missions...

“And you take care of all of them on your own? I mean... with no machines?” he asked again. He knew humans usually extracted what they needed from those animals by using industrial machines, but there were none in sight.

“Yeah! Well, most of the time anyway. I cheat a bit when I'm not home or I'm sick. I have a couple robots who can do all my chores. Tending to a farm is a full time job! I tried looking for a trustworthy alien caretaker, but Earth creatures just seem to be too weird for aliens to take care of”.

"Ohhh, I see. That _is_ pretty impressive!" he complimented her, and he genuinely meant it. To take care of those many animals, some of which were pretty big, must have been very difficult without using any machines.

“And let me guess" he continued, "They are called ‘Cow 1’, ‘Cow 2’, and so on?”

“Hah! Nah, they don't have names at all. It makes eating them easier" Driver giggled. She got closer to a fence, and affectionately scratched the head of a passing cow. The animal happily welcomed the scritches of the master who would one day slaughter it to feed on its flesh.

“Ah. Makes sense!" Zim nodded, a pensive finger under his chin as he reflected on that implied, macabre prospect. Humans usually were wimpy softies, but... they too could be pretty cold-blooded when they wanted, couldn't they?

“But I treat them very well, you know!” she assured him. “They are much happier here than in the intensive factories I stole their grandmas from. I even let them out of their enclosures every day, and give them all natural food. It makes everything sooo much tastier! Goes to show that hard work does pay in the long run!" she continued, clearly prideful of her method.

Zim looked at the animals once more. So that was the secret of the exceptional tastiness of her food? No genetic engineering, no hormonal manipulation? He could hardly believe that something could grow up so big and tasty without one bit of chemical meddling.

"Wait a second though. If you only eat what you grow, and already sell your plants and animals, why do you need to be a criminal on top of it?” Zim argued.

 _“Sustaining a farm?_ With _this_ economy?” she scoffed. "I could have never even set this whole place up in the first place, without becoming a criminal first. And no one would have ever hired a space-stranded teenage chimp".

Oh. Right. Irkens didn't have to worry about job-huntings like the other races did: they were automatically assigned jobs as soon as they became of age. To be more accurate, they were created to fit a job in the first place. And as for 'setting up their own places'... no one needed to. No one under the Empire technically owned anything. Everything Irken belonged to the Empire and the Empire alone-

"Oh, that reminds me!" he suddenly exclaimed, following from his considerations, "Didn't you say you were renting the planet? So, does this all belong to you, or...?"

“Well, I plan on buying it, eventually. Once I have enough monies. I'd like to move to a bigger more isolated place!" she explained.

“But what if your Land Lord says no?"

“Well. I _steal_ it, _obviously”_ she smirked down at him.

As they were now facing away from the sun, Zim could finally look at her face as she spoke, and he was extremely grateful that he could catch another glimpse of her beautiful evil side: her bad moments were pretty sporadic and brief, but when they did happen... _ooh boy._

Zim looked down, all blushing. He would have loved to see her steal that planet for herself. It would have been _so attractive._

"Come, now. I wanna show you my favorite place on the planet" Driver said as she suddenly turned and began walking again.

Zim trailed behind her; the number of trees increased the farther they got from her house, and soon there was enough shade for him to actually raise his eyes, and for a moment there, as he looked at her figure as a whole, he felt… well, _mesmerized,_ for a lack of a better word.

Maybe it was a mere, temporary suggestion caused by the interplay of the sun’s light and the trees’ shadows, but for a few seconds Driver appeared--- she appeared otherworldly. But not in a planetary sense, as she was, rather in a plane-of-existence sense. Her hair and skin almost looked golden in the sun’s light; bees and colorful butterflies flew around her as she calmly, daintily walked on the grass; her hair and her long skirt freely fluttered behind her, adding to her ethereal, elegant air. She looked perfectly in tune with every part of her planet, as if she too had _sprouted_ from the ground like the flowers and trees and grass around her, instead of being its owner- yes that was it! She was more like its… ruler. Like a _queen._ Or a _goddess._ Or an _elf,_ eternally dancing in a forest’s glade.

Zim’s legs stopped moving. His eyes, on the contrary, kept following her movements. His heart had swollen up with a sudden surge of awe… and deep sadness, at the same time. Driver looked so _beautiful,_ so _perfect!_ … _too_ perfect, in fact. Like she could have kept on walking on that field, among her plants and animals, forever. Whether he was there or not.

Driver stopped, turning her face to him. Zim jumped, alarmed. That abrupt movement, her eyes looking at him, they emptied him of any and all thoughts.

Driver observed him, curious. She looked back, to see if maybe the object of his attention was behind her.

She turned again, and she gave him a soft, warm smile.

“Whatcha doing there, handsome? You not coming?” she asked.

Her kind words seemingly reset his thought process, like a jolt of electricity shooting through his PAK.

“Er, eh- yeah! Yeah, sure, haha!” Zim laughed at his own silliness, and hastened to reach her again.

Driver and he began walking again, this time side by side. What an absurd thought that had been, indeed. If there was anybody that could walk by the side of such an amazing person, it was him. _The most incredible Irken ZiM!_ In fact, he was _just_ doing that! And he was the _only_ one she allowed to! Well, and Cat. But she was _holding_ it, so that definitely didn’t count!

Zim held his chin up, to match with Driver’s calm confidence. Now more relaxed and reassured, he looked at the changing environment around him. The concentration of trees rapidly increased with each step, until they walked in what could properly be called a forest.

There, under the shades cast by the trees’ fronds, the air was much, much chiller. But also somewhat moist. And the birds’ chirping was much louder. Now that he listened more carefully, there was another sound under all that tweeting: water. _Running_ water.

They eventually stepped into a small clearing, and he could see the source of that noise.

“Ah. _Water._ I should’ve known your favorite spot would be like this” he commented.

“Excuse you, this is a pond, slash creek, slash fountain, slash swimming pool, thank you very much” she corrected him with a conceited tone.

Well, that did all check out. On one side, to his left, the clear water poured out from a stone mouth in the ground; it flowed in a stream across the clearing, cutting it into two halves, and ended into a dark, larger hole on the other side, to his right; in the middle, its bed became wide and deep enough to be, in fact, considered a pond, with two large rocks emerging from the center.

As they got closer, Zim noticed something, swimming in the water: _fish._ There were at least a dozen, all red, white, black, or a combination of the three.

Zim looked up at Driver in complete disbelief.

“You _can’t_ be serious. You _don’t_ actually swim in here, _do you?!”_ the pond’s floor and walls were covered in moss and algae, tinging the water with a sickening green color. And there were fish floating in there. FISH!

“Psh! Of course I swim in here, silly! Why would I keep a pond otherwise? Just for show?” she retorted.

 _“Yeah!_ Yeah, that’d be _way_ more reasonable, actually!”

“Oh, please! It’s perfectly clean! It’s the same water I drink and wash with!”

“That’s _worse!_ You realize that’s _worse,_ right?!”

“Sure, whatever, yeah” Driver rolled her eyes, annoyed.

She bent down, and deposited Cat on the ground. The little feline sat on the water’s edge, and cautiously sniffed the water.

“Actually, I think I’m gonna have a dip right now. Today has been suuuuch a hot day!” Driver announced with a malicious grin on her face.

“No!” he spat.

Driver sat down on the grass, ready to dive in feet first; he knelt behind her, trying to hold her back by one arm.

 _“Don’t go in!”_ he yelled, _“Don’t you dare go in, or I’ll NEVER touch you again-”_

_Splash._

One little jump forward, and she was already thigh-deep into the green, dark water.

“Hahaha!” Driver let out a mischievous giggle. Zim glared at her, uselessly holding her arm.

She pecked his lips with her own, then mockingly showed him her tongue's tip.

 _“I hate you”_ he hissed.

She kissed him again, this time under his eye, leaving the smallest damp spot on his skin.

 _“I’m serious!_ I’m not touching you until you wash all that _fish stew_ off you!”

Driver grabbed his wrist. She guided his hand to her cheek, and stroked its back.

“Then stop _touching_ me” she dared him.

Zim’s frown deepened. He hated how difficult it was _not_ to touch her. And he hated how well she knew that.

Driver’s expression, on the contrary, softened.

“Why don’t you come in too? I know you hate the heat. This is the perfect day for a swim”

 _“No thank you”_ he hissed, “I’m fine where I am!”

“You sure?” she took a few more steps into the pond. She cupped some water with her hand, and passed it on her nape. “You have no idea how refreshing this is!”

“Cat doesn’t wanna know either, and I don’t see you nagging it about it!” he protested, pointing at the clueless animal lying on the ground next to him.

“Alright, alright. As you prefer” she conceded, waving her hands in a sign of surrender.

She turned back, walking towards the center of the pond. The fish scattered away from the intruder’s legs, and- oh, man. He didn’t know if she'd noticed, but her skirt was floating in the water... way, _way_ higher than it normally should, leaving almost all her legs _exposed._

He couldn't see them very well because of the water’s refraction, but that fuzzy image of bare skin was enough to fully grab his attention. Should he... point that out to her? Or maybe she already knew, and didn’t feel any shame for it?

At any rate, as soon as she turned back to face him he immediately looked away from the water: if she ever caught him gawking at her body like that she would teased him to death.

Driver raised herself with her hands and sat on one of the rocks poking out of the water, her legs still immersed in the water, but now covered by the shirt again. Bummer.

“Y’know, my grandparents used to bring me to a creek like this during the hot summer days" she suddenly spoke.

Zim’s antennae perked up in attention.

“Well, obviously it was much bigger than this one. There were more ponds, one after the other. There was even a small waterfall! And tadpoles, during the right season!” she recounted, “I would undress to my underwear, and splash and swim in the water for hours!”

She swung her feet back and forth, creating circling ripples in the water.

Suddenly, she seemed to become more thoughtful. Her smile still lingered, but… he wasn’t really sure whether it was a happy or a sad one.

“There was a man, who would sometimes bring his dog to that same creek. He and my grandpa would talk, sitting on the rocks nearby, while I played with her in the water. She was, like, three times bigger than kid me, but she was always so sweet and gentle!” she continued, her eyes brimming of a bittersweet, nostalgic light.

Zim nodded, to show his investment in her story. If there wasn’t so much water between them it would have been much easier: he could have held her hand, or hugged her.

“I don’t remember the man’s name, but after a while he started bringing a piece of candy for me every time we met” she looked down at her hands in her lap, remembering the man with clear fondness. “I don’t know why, but it’s very easy to make friends with strangers when you’re out in nature”.

Then she stopped, and remained quiet. Guessing that she was done with her speech and was waiting for some kind of response on his part, Zim spoke up:

“He does seem nice” he agreed, “giving you free candy and all. I’m sure playing with his dog was very fun. In a human way, at least”.

“Haha! Yeah, it was” she nodded. Then, she suddenly looked up: “You look so out of place, Zim” she grinned, “Doesn’t Irk have plants and animals?”

Zim blinked, thrown off by that quick change of subject. Oh, well. It was still a huge step from her being all coy and mysterious about her past.

“No, not at all” he replied.

“Ah, I see. Irk is one of those _swept_ planet, isn’t it?”

“Of course!” he proudly puffed his chest out, “We Irkens wiped out all the other inferior creatures on our planet! It’s a testament to our ability to climb on top of any hierarchy! _‘First our planet, then the Universe’!”_ he recited.

“Wow. Very superior indeed” she weakly clapped her hands with a deadpan face. “Well, can you at least tell me what they were like before you murdered them all?”

“Very well! THEY were, uh, uhmmm...” … uh. Weird. That was about all the information his PAK had on Irk’s natural, pre-technological state: nature was dangerous and chaotic. Then Irkens rose up above it, taming and destroying the other creatures, and rebuilt a more efficient, ordered planet. But he didn’t have any images, not even a vague idea of what that ancient world and its creatures were actually like. Maybe PAK-crafters had deemed such information superfluous?

“… I don’t really know” he finally answered. “I don’t have the files”

“Too bad. I was curious” Driver commented. He couldn’t deny that now that she’d brought up the subject he shared that sentiment.

Driver let out a relaxed sigh; turned her face up to the sky, and closed her eyes. So… she didn’t intend to guide him further on?

He looked down at Cat. It was still looking at the fish, but much more sleepy-looking, its green eyes blinking slowly, its tail and ears twitching from time to time.

Maybe they were taking a break, as PAK-less creatures often needed?

He figured that indulging them for a few moments wouldn’t really affect that short trip, and he sat down on the grass, trying to loosen up his body as much as possible.

He didn’t really feel like closing his eyes, though: now that the light wasn’t so oppressive, his eyes could finally move around to fully scope the environment, and he found relief in having that freedom again.

Not gonna lie… Driver’s planet, and that place in particular, were very pretty. Granted, he too would have been ready to declare the pond its favorite spot on the planet on account of the lower temperature alone, but. That gentle breeze caressing his skin, relieving him from the heat. Those harmonious, beautiful shades of brown, green and gold that the bright sun, filtering through the trees’ leaves, painted the forest with. The rhythmic sound of the water pouring and flowing in the ground: they all made for an undeniably relaxing, calm environment. Even the birds’ twitter became kind of nice once he got used to it.

So Driver had spent most of her childhood in places like that? Playing with dogs, making friends with strangers that gave her free candy, in the company of her loving relatives?

 _Wait. Was she implying that the stranger and his dog are dead too by now?,_ he wondered. Though asking her would probably be inappropriate, at least for the time being.

Dang it though. Driver’s childhood had been pretty much opposite to his, hadn’t it? She had spent hers in the light of the Earth’s sun, surrounded by love, and friends and nature. And all of it had been taken from her, either dead or stolen. He had spent his in the dark bowels of Irk, and there was nothing loving, friendly or natural in them, or above them. Just robots, weapons, and comrades training to one day take their place on the surface and help the Empire grow. And they would never be stolen, nor would they ever die.

Zim sighed, his hands playing in his lap. He rarely ever thought of his smeethood. How bizarre that the exact opposite kind of environment he’d spent it in would remind him of it!

He closed his eyes, relishing in the chill breeze. It’d been centuries since he’d last been inside Irk’s Education Facilities, yet he could still remember them so perfectly. The sights, for one! Which admittedly, were not much: all spaces there were enclosed in a neatly assembled box of metal, electricity, and energy. In place of the wind’s blow and the birds’ chirping were the machines’ whirring and the air ducts’ breaths. There, in the dim-lit darkness...

_… the only source of light were countless floating lamp bots, stationed at equal distance from one another in the rooms and alleyways of the giant labyrinth that w_ _ere_ _Irk’s un_ _derg_ _r_ _ound Facilities. Apparently, the original Electricity Generators had all been compromised a couple years prior, and so was the normal illumination system. The culprit had never been caught. What a mystery!_

 _Coincidentally, that had also been the day ZiM had seen the actual sunlight for the first time._ _For exactly five seconds (he'd counted), before a smeet droid dragged him back in_ _side_ _._ _After that, life had pretty much returned back to normal (save for the lamp bots), with him impatiently waiting for the day he’d graduate and be allowed on the surface with the adult Irkens._

 _Now on that particularly relevant day, t_ _he_ _E_ _ducation_ _S_ _ession_ _# 3747483_ _had_ _just_ _ended._ _T_ _he smeets had been sent to the Play Grounds for their mandated ‘_ _Purposeful Play Time’._

 _The Smeetery's_ _P_ _lay_ _G_ _round looked a lot like a mix between a human arcade and a laser tag_ _arena (though of course, ZiM still had no idea what a ‘human’ or a ‘laser tag’ were)_ _, with battle-simulating computers organized in lines and_ _little_ _smeets_ _laughing and_ _running through the aisles,_ _shooting each other with_ _faithful reproductions of_ _real_ _weapons._

 _But Zi_ _M_ _had no time for games t_ _oday_ _:_ _he was deeply immersed in his project, sitting at one of the construction tables amassed in one side of the big room._ _“Build your_ _OWN_ _weapon of destruction- According to_ _the acceptable conventions_ _!_ _(Reminder: in case you make a genuine scientific breakthrough, you won’t be credited)” read a glowing screen on the wall above them._

 _Suddenly,_ _Skoodge approached_ _him, breaking_ _his concentration._

_"Hey, Zim!" he greeted him with his usual jovial smile, "We're playing Skin the Meekrob! Wanna come play?"_

_Zi_ _M_ _looked up_ _from his invention, and looked around._

 _"‘We’ who?"_ _he asked him._

 _"You and me?" Skoodge_ _proposed, joining his hands in a hopeful/begging gesture._

 _"Nuh uh!”_ _ZiM shook his head._ _“Have you forgotten that to_ _morrow_ _is Purpose Evaluation Day? We're finally gonna graduate_ _from the Education Plugs_ _! I have_ _to make sure my_ _project_ _comes out perfect!_ _"_

 _"Isn't that optional,_ _though_ _?”_ _Skoodge argued._ _“Just focus on the test! If_ _the extra project_ _doesn't come out right, the plus might turn into a minus!"_

 _"My project is gonna be super good, obviously!”_ _ZiM conceitedly reassured him. “T_ _he examination_ _requires us_ _to prove our potential,_ _and_ _I wouldn't be doing that if I didn’t show at least one of the trigillion genius idea_ _s_ _I have!”_

 _“_ _Aw, Zim! You’re so confident!” Skoodge exclaimed, big eyes full with admiration._

 _“And besides, all the kewl smeets are bringing a personal project! Am I right?" he_ _then_ _called to two_ _other smeets sitting three_ _tables to his right._

 _Past_ _Tallest Red and_ _Past Tallest_ _Purple slightly raised his heads at him._

 _"Oh, Irk, I think he's talking to us..."_ _Purple whispered._

 _"Don't make eye contact"_ _Red hissed back._

 _"REEEED? PUUUURPLEEEE? I'M TALKING TO YOUUUUU!"_ _ZiM yelled as loud as he could._

 _They both cringed, looking_ _back_ _down. Those goofballs,_ _with their_ _enigmatic behaviors. If he didn’t know_ _them so well_ _, he would have thought they didn't_ _really_ _like him._

_He probably just needed to get closer._

_ZiM took his project and carried it over to_ _their table,_ _with_ _Skoodge_ _trailing behind him_ _._

 _"Heyyyyy, guys!" he adopt_ _ed_ _his cool voice. "Working on your own projects I see! What are they?"_

 _Red and Purple_ _looked at each other,_ _dubious_ _. Red eyed him;_ _h_ _e sighed, and finally replied_ _with a quiet_ _mumbl_ _e_ _:_

_"A laser..."_

_"A smoke bomb..."_ _Purple followed_ _with that same tone_ _._

 _"Ohhhh, cool! Though_ _objectively_ _not as cool as my_ _Total Annihilation_ _M_ _achine!" he_ _announced as he_ _triumphally placed the machine_ _on the table. "It_ _s_ _eeks out_ _for_ _any enemy in its range_ _a_ _nd destroys them_ _with the best suited, automatically selected method out of thirty!_ _Destrucccctioooonnnn!_ _"_

_"Aahhh..."_

_"Hmmm..."_

_"Wow..."_

_"Ehhh...."_

_Red and Purple were so in awe of his prowess, they forgot how to speak._

_"Oh, man! You guys have gotten me nervous with all your projects!" Skoodge_ _lamented_ _, "Maybe I should have prepared one too!"_

 _Red and Purple_ _looked_ _him_ _up and_ _down._

 _"No, Skoodge, don't worry" Red reassured him with a_ _n arrogant, sarcastic_ _tone. "If I looked the way you do, I would have stopped trying too"._

 _“_ _Pfff!”_ _Purple snorted, badly hiding his giggles with a hand on his mouth._

 _"Aw, gee! Thanks Red! You're always so nice!" Skoodge_ _cluelessly_ _smiled._

_Zim shook his head. Poor naive Skoodge. When was he gonna realize that those two looked down on him?_

_"So, anyways!”_ _Zim exclaimed._ _“_ _G_ _etting back to me_ _and my AMAZING project!_ _... what do you think?"_

_Zim stared at the pair for several seconds straight. Then, when Red realized he was not gonna be satisfied with a series of sighs and grunts, he explicated his feedback better:_

_"Uuhmmm... Zim..."_ _he moved his hand in a circular motion, trying to find the right words._ _"... Do you have to try so hard every time? Combining_ _thirty_ _weapons into one seems... dangerous"_

 _"Yeah, that thing looks like it_ _’_ _s gonna explode the moment you turn it on!" Purple echoed. "Like that time you 'improved' that pogo stick, and it hit me in the eye! It nearly blinded me! And it was NOT funny! Right?"_

 _No one talked for a_ _few_ _moment_ _s_ _._

_Purple turned to Red._

_"Right?!" he repeated with a hiss._

_"Uh?" Red jumped, realizing_ _that he’_ _d been talking to him, "Oh, yeah! Not funny at all, no!" he agreed._

 _"Why,_ _under_ _anyone else’_ _s scrutiny, then yes, it WOULD be_ _EXTREEEMELY_ _dangerous, but this is ZIM’s project we are talking about!”_ _ZiM_ _puffed his chest proudly._ _“No worries, this is not at all like the pogo stick! I have everything under control!"_ _and as proof,_ _he_ _patted on the_ _cylindrical_ _machine’_ _s top._

 _"No eye-related accidents_ _this time_ _!"_

_Pat. Clic, whirr._

_At the last pat, the machine's_ _first and highest_ _layer_ _turned on itself. It pointed up and shot something._ _ZiM, Skoodge, Red and Purple_ _looked_ _with awe_ _at_ _the_ _dart:_ _it drew_ _a graceful, geometrically perfect parabola_ _in the air before falling down and hitting a smeet_ _square_ _in the eye._

 _"AAAAAAAH! MY EEEEYE!”_ _he screeched, throwing himself to the ground and contorting in pain._ _“EYE-RELATED ACCIDENT! EYE-RELATED ACCIDENT!!!"_ _a nearby smeet shouted._

 _Zi_ _M_ _looked at Red’s and Purple’s horrified faces._

 _".... tomorrow! No eye-related accidents tomorrow! That's what I meant,_ _yes_ _!" he corrected his last sentence._

 _A medical_ _aid_ _robot_ _erupted in the room_ _with_ _its loud_ _sirens on, to the rescue of the smeet._ _ZiM’s attention concentrated however on another robot, coming through from a door on the opposite side: a smeet-supervising robot._

_It floated with furious speed towards him, and halted its pace a couple feet from him_

_ZiM swallowed. He already knew what was coming._

_"Zim”_ _its robotic voice spoke._ _“For causing an eye related accident, you'll be now put in the_ _T_ _ime_ _O_ _ut_ _C_ _orner"_

 _"Eh? Zi_ _M_ _needs no break!" he protested, "I was just showing my_ _amazing_ _project to Red and_ _P_ _-"_

 _"Take him away!" Purple shrilled in fear,_ _hiding_ _behind Red. "Take him away before he hits my eye too!_ _AGAIN!_ _"_

 _“_ _Hey, I would not-”_

 _The robot's_ _extendable_ _arms_ _g_ _rabbed him,_ _cutting his protests short and holding his arms against his body._ _It raised him up. Then turned, and_ _started carrying him to the_ _T_ _ime_ _O_ _ut_ _C_ _orner._

 _Behind the robot’s metal head, ZiM saw_ _a sad-looking_ _Skoodge, waving at him. And then-_

“Hey, what's up?” Driver called to him.

Zim blinked. He was so immersed in his memories, he hadn’t noticed that Driver had gotten close to him, legs still in the water, body leaning on the grassy ground in front of him.

“Just thinking” he replied.

“Happy thoughts, I hope”

“Mmmh... _Neutral_ thoughts” he nodded.

Driver tilted her head, looking at him with loving eyes. She took his hands in hers, and pecked his lips.

“Promise?” she asked.

He pecked her lips back.

 _“Promise._ Why wouldn’t I?” he smirked.

“Hah!… uhm… Zim?” she continued, unusually bashful. “Thanks for doing this for me. I know this whole nature thing isn’t your cup of tea. So-”

“This again?” he rolled his eyes. “Driver, stop feeling guilty every time I do something for you. Besides, I _do_ like your planet”.

Her face seemed to light up.

“Really? You do?”

“Sure! It’s pretty, and calm. Not at all like the Earth I know”

“Heh… okay” she giggled. “You’re right, I’m sorry. I’m just nervous. I never get to show my planet to people”.

He smiled back, affectionately squeezing her hands. He looked down at them, and stroked their back with his thumbs.

Driver had such pretty hands- well, everything about her was pretty. But her _hands_ were in particular. He loved how they felt to the touch. They were so _soft and elegant,_ yet also so _strong and capable._

His eyes trailed up from them, to her chest and neck. He had never seen them being so exposed: he could see the muscles of her neck, as well as the curves of her collarbones, and cleavage between those two… _lumps-of-fat things-he-forgot-the-name-of_ under her shirt. No wonder she felt so soft whenever they hugged! Now _that_ reminded him...

He shyly looked up into her eyes.

“… uhm... Driver?” he asked.

“Yes?”

“… ehhh... Can we, uh...”

He swallowed. Come on, just say it. You’ve said and done much worse anyway.

_“... hug?”_

Driver hesitated for a second, her eyes widening in seeming shock. That was the first time he’d explicitly asked for one.

Then, her expression melted into a happy, sweet smile.

“Aw, honey! Of course we can hug! We can hug whenever you want!” she cooed.

His cheeks flared up. _‘Honey’_ was a new one. It felt pretty good.

Driver opened her arms and closed him in a hug, squeezing his body close to hers. Zim hugged her back, his hands sinking into her soft hair.

Zim relaxed in her tender, warm hold. It felt so comfortable, so reassuring, so secure.

He closed his eyes, listening to the calming sounds of the water, of the birds, and of her breathing.

“You know the water you’re standing in is green, right?” he smirked, “Isn’t it time you came out of there? It can’t be good for you”

“Haha! Nonsense” she laughed from behind his shoulder, “After all, _green_ is my favorite color”.

After that, Zim got sucked more and more into Driver’s human daily routine. For not having truly ever lived according to a human schedule (not full time at least), he got surprisingly used to it; soon, the different hours of a day came to have a different… _feel_ to each of them. On Irk, a ‘day’ was just a convention left up from a past, distant time useful to divide up time: on Irk, there was no time to stop and rest like there was on Earth. There was no such thing as a _‘night’._ Irk never _slept._ Irk was forever fixed in an eternal moment in an eternal day- an eternally _productive_ moment. And he himself used to uphold that system, even on Earth, by locking himself in his underground laboratory, where the day cycle meant nothing.

But now, ‘morning’ meant a crisp, chill air, birds chirping in the distance, and the smell of coffee and milk heating up on the stove in Driver’s kitchen.

‘Noon’ became synonymous with the warm, bright golden light of the sun, and helping Driver wash the dishes after lunch, and chilling on her sofa before they both went back to work.

And although the pond in the forest remained his favorite spot on the planet during the hot hours, he came to love the quiet, intimate atmosphere of Driver’s backyard in the evening, when she’d make some fruit juice, or fruit salad, or pie for them to have while they sat on the porch’s bench and looked out at her gardens -the one where she grew the edible vegetables, and the one where she grew the pretty-to-look-at flowers. Who even knew there was a difference?

He’d thought such a frequent change of scenery would be very confusing, but it actually gave him a much more solid basis for perceiving time than a simple clock and a measly ten-minute break, and as a result his work rhythm improved too. Who would have guessed that resting more frequently meant more energies? He got so used to that cyclical change of light, that after a while he began turning the laboratory’s lights off during the day: they just became excessive and obnoxious compared to the sun’s natural light -so that sky-glass-ceiling thing _did_ have a use after all!

The food greatly contributed to that new rhythm, for sure: apart from being the main excuse for which he took those pauses, Driver’s food was so delicious, his body started actively craving it: now he automatically became hungry whenever the designated time for a meal came- even without looking at a clock! Like he had a sort of _biological clock_ in his meats! And maybe it was just an impression of his, but he did feel like he had more energies after eating it than we snacks. Who knew that ‘bio-nutrients’ were better than processed food? What kinda sense did it make? Processed snacks were supposed to be energetic- it was written on every label!

And the longer he stayed there, the more he wanted to know. And the more he knew, the more he wondered and pondered on the differences between the Earth and Irk -beyond, well, the myriad he’d already had.

Eventually, it occurred to him that most of them came to the relationship Earthlings and Irkens had with _life_ itself: for Irkens, a life’s worth was measured in its usefulness, like any other resource. No matter whether it was the life of an Irken or of an enemy, of an ally or of a slave: good resources were maintained and multiplied; anything unproductive or, worse, counterproductive, was to be disposed of. Assuming that Irk had once been like the Earth and Nortyne too, with life sprouting from every single spec of dirt, it made sense that it’d been replaced with cables and metal and buildings: they were just a much more useful resource.

And on that line, it just made sense that Irkens would be equipped with PAKs, which removed the need for sleep and food. It made sense that animals and plants would be replaced by machines, or genetically modified to absolve certain functions -mainly entertainment (read: executions) and food production.

According to Driver, though, for Earthlings life had value in and of itself (unless you were a ‘piece of garbage nihilistic materialist’, as she’d said. Whatever _that_ meant). For example, yes, Driver kept animals to one day eat them, but she made sure they still had a very comfortable, carefree and happy life: she personally sewed blankets and pillows for them, and made especially yummy food for them to eat, and even gave them toys to play with. Earthlings in general seemed to do so many superfluous things for the sole reason that it made life happier- and not necessarily their own, either.

And sure, no one would ever see an Earthling conquer a planet or build an intergalactic empire, but… they were very much _satisfied_ with their life. And the absence of advanced technology didn’t seem to hurt its quality in the slightest.

 _NOW having said ALL that…_ he still might only like that planet because it was _Driver’s_ -notice how she was mentioned in each and every topic?

Driver was, needless to say, incredibly amazing as always. If anything, she seemed to get more awesome and prettier every day that passed. She had a way to make him feel so special, like no one had really ever done: she listened very attentively and enthusiastically whenever he talked to her about his work, giving him kind words of encouragement; she purchased special alien food that resembled its Earth counterpart just so he could taste what she tasted without any allergic reaction; often times, she would check on him while he worked in the lab too: sometimes, she'd come in, hug him from behind, rest her chin on his shoulder, and watch him work like that for a while. Other times, she would bring a book or her laptop and sit somewhere in the lab, just to keep him company. Oftentimes, she would even bring him something to drink or snack on! And every time she visited him, no matter how frequent it was, his face would always light up with a huge, surprised and happy smile.

All these factors combined made his mood higher than it’d ever been, so even though he wasn’t working nearly as much as he used to (that is, all day long), he was still somehow much faster, more productive, and more creative. Really, sometimes he felt so happy, he felt his spooch was about to burst!

And as for the… squintz… partner-allyship… whatever it was that was between them, he felt like he was getting better in that area too.

He was getting more receptive to her body and emotive language; and he was getting more and more used to receiving affection without his body overloading. He was also actively trying to initiate affection- something that Driver evidently appreciated, and to be honest that was the best part: knowing that he could surprise her, and make her happy, and make her heart beat faster too, like she did with him.

Strangely enough (though nothing was remotely not-strange at this point of his life), further inspiration for his affection-showing came from human movies: Driver have a wide collection of them, yet he had never seen not even one of them before- which made sense, since Driver had brought them from the Earth a decade before.

They were of all kinds, happy and sad, straight to the point and artsy and weird, packed with action and silly and emotional and dramatic, a range as wide as her interests and personality traits were.

He had seen Earth movies and watched Earth TV before, of course, but he had never noticed how love was almost an omnipresent constant, no matter the genre: there was always at least one romantic couple per movie, or someone the protagonist was interested in, and it was often the focus of the whole story.

He could see then how Driver, despite saying he was his first real partner, could be so very good at it: she had always grown up surrounded by a platitude of examples!

But the strangest thing of all, was that now he... _kind of… sort of…_ could _relate_ to the in-love humans. He could understand, at least, their desire to be close to someone, and to hug and kiss them, and to wish nothing but happiness for them, to the point of fighting and risking their lives for them. Now, all those things he’d previously looked down on didn’t seem so foolish, or gross.

Of course, that didn’t mean he related or was okay with absolutely every type of human affection; and as much as he came to love when he and Driver would cuddle on the sofa and watch a movie together in her TV, things could easily get… _weird._ And _uncomfortable._

Thing was… humans had WILDLY different levels of shame… okay, let’s state this bluntly: there were a lot of _naked_ humans in movies. A LOT LOT. And COUPLES in particular seemed to LOVE getting all nakey and then snuggle and hug and kiss in a bed.

The first time such a scene had appeared on the screen, he had thrown a couple of embarrassed glances up at Driver, but... she had watched the whole thing with an absolutely impassible face. Sooo… maybe it was something normal, for humans? Eventually, he too learnt to (sorta) ignore it, but still… why? What was up with humans and getting naked?!

Good thing that Driver limited that undressing/touchy kind of behavior to her arms and legs only!

… or so he thought, until _that_ day.

It started out as a normal morning: they were chilling together on the couch, waiting for a particularly big pancakes-eggs-and-fruit-juice-based breakfast to go down before going to work.

They were leaning on each other, sharing what their respective projects for the day were going to be: she was going to plant some new bell peppers; he was gonna create an artificial, miniature black hole. So, yeah: a pretty busy, but fun day ahead for both of them.

Zim had his back and head rested against her body, playing with a lock of her hair; she was wearing this lovely, soft, white nightgown with a small pink ribbon on her chest, and her hair was still messy from a night’s sleep.

Simply put, she was absolutely beautiful.

So even though she was still describing all the intricate rituals that bell pepper-planting entailed, he couldn’t help by tilting his head up and giving her a few kisses.

“… so, yeah. Even with this strong sun, it’s gonna take the whole summer for them to grow” she stated.

“That’s too bad” he commented, placing a kiss on her cheek.

“But it’s gonna be worth it!” she smiled, “They’ll grow big and plumpy, no doubt”

“Heh!” he pecked her lips. “‘Plumpy’ is a funny word”

“Hahaha!” she giggled. She raised up her hand, and stroked his back. “Besides, most dishes with bell peppers are hot ones anyway”

He smirked.

“Well...”

Trying to push the boundaries and express his affection in a new way… he kissed her neck, as she’d done with him before. As he’d seen so many humans do in movies. Unknowingly causing the _triggering event #1._

A light shiver ran through her body. Nice.

He briefly rested his forehead on her shoulder.

“… you know how much it takes to create a black hole?”

“How much?” Driver asked.

Zim looked up at her, and grinned wider.

“Only ten seconds, once the machine is ready”

“Oooh. I’m so _envious”_ she grinned back.

He leaned in, and kissed her again. Driver gently responded, her hand still on his back: this time, it was his turn to lead the game… though as it turns out, that wouldn’t last long.

He switched down to her neck again, and another shiver ran through her, this time stronger. He took the time to breathe in deeply: she smelled so good.

That familiar, pleasant warmth flared up between his legs, pushing him to continue. He raised up his hands, resting them on her shoulders, and kissed her neck again.

“Hah!” a sound between a giggle and a whimper escaped her mouth, sending yet another pleasant jolt through his crotch. Seriously, what was up with that? Oh, well. He was happy enough that he was evidently doing something very right with his touches.

As he got down to kiss her chest, his hands trailed lower on her body, unknowingly causing the _triggering event #2,_ which was arguably even graver: he _touched_ the two-things-he-had-forgotten-the-names-of, and kept his _palms_ there.

And even _graverer_ than that, since she didn’t seem to mind at all, and since he found them to be even softer than what he expected… he ever so slightly _pressed_ down on them.

“Mmm” Driver let out a grunt. He was almost wondering if maybe he’d hurt her, when she grabbed his cheeks, turned his face up, and kissed him ‘tongue first’, as she’d once called that kissing style.

So… that was a _good_ thing, yes? Although, Driver was sure being way louder than usual. And grabbier: he could hear her muffled breathing behind the kissing, like she was panting, while her hands frantically traveled up and down his body.

And he was enjoying it quite a lot, too, until… her hands got down to his butt and _squeezed_ his buttocks.

Zim froze for a moment. Was that… normal? She had already done that once, or so he remembered. So that must have been okay, right? Was that a thing partners could do? Touching each other’s butts?

Driver sloppily moved her mouth away from his own and down to his neck, leaving a trail of saliva on his lips and his chin; then, she started nibbling on the skin right under his ear.

Zim shivered and giggled at the tickling sensation, involuntarily squeezing down on her chest-things; human teeth were so weird: they looked flat, but felt pointy on the skin. Driver could be so... animalistic -though it made sense, considering that humans classified themselves as ‘animals’. Not that it was something he complained about: he didn’t know exactly why, but he kind of liked when she nibbled on his skin. It made his heart race. And it made another wave of pleasure emanate from between his legs.

Then, suddenly, Driver pushed him down lying on the sofa, kissing all over his neck and chest. Which wouldn’t have been a problem in and of itself… if she wasn’t also shoving her hands under his tunic.

“Uh-” he was about to ask her to slow down, when her hands found the edge of his shirt and lifted it up.

Zim froze again. Dumbfounded and confused, he looked down: his belly was exposed bare, and her hands were touching it. When her hands grabbed the edge of his pants and started pulling them down, he realized he hadn’t misinterpreted her intentions: _she WAS trying to undress him._

 _"Driver- Driver, stop, STOP!"_ he yelled, slapping her hands away.

Driver immediately jumped back on the sofa, her hands jerking up like she’d just touched a hot stove.

Zim pulled himself up, hastily putting his clothes back in place to cover himself.

"What the hell was THAT?!" he shouted again.

“Uh-uhm...” Driver stammered. Her eyes were huge with what appeared to be both confusion and fear.

“I-I, uhm…” she swallowed. “I think I might have… _misread_ you”.

  
  


_The_ _smeet-supervising ro_ _bot carried him to the_ _T_ _ime_ _O_ _ut_ _C_ _orner. He_ _kind of_ _liked being carried:_ _i_ _t was the only time when_ _he got to be_ _touched gently_ _by someone_ _._ _And_ _i_ _t reminded him of the first robot_ _arm_ _that had hatched him._

 _The bot plopped him inside_ _of the Time Out Corner: it was a tall (tall for a smeet) box made of distorting closed around the farthest corner of the Smeetery._ _In the corner itself, was the Time Out Bot, nothing more than a mouth-shaped speaker and two pink lights for eyes above it. ZiM had learnt, after having spent so much time with it, to see that face as friendly, as opposed to creepy as all the other smeets did._

_ZiM knew the drill: he sat against the opposite corner to the robot’s, and was careful not to look behind himself. Not only was it pointless, since the distorting, sound-proof glass made communication with the exterior impossible, but the floor would give him an electric shock if he ever turned._

_"Hey, Time Out Bot!”_ _he smiled,_ _“Long time no see!"_

 _"_ _Smeet Unit_ _Zim_ _]_ _”_ _its monotonous, low voice spoke._ _“_ _Your last stay in the Time Out Corner was_ _:_ _[t_ _hree days ago_ _]_ _._ _Current transgression: [eye-related accident]. Again._ _Computing time of punishment:_ _[ten_ _hours_ _]_ _"_

 _"Oh, man! I don't need such a long break!”_ _ZiM complained,_ _“I'll barely have time to finish the_ _Total Annihilation Machine!”_

 _"Don’t complain”_ _the bot admonished him._ _“This is a punishment”_

 _"You know, tomorrow_ _is Purpose Evaluation Day!” ZiM ignored him, speaking excitedly of that long awaited day. “_ _I am so ready for it!_ _The Evaluators will be so impressed with me, I bet they’ll make me a general! Or a fleet commander! Or even a_ _Talles_ _t_ _!_ _Everyone knows I’m FAR ahead of the rest of the class! They can’t even build their own nuclear reactors! Though I guess you know that, since it’s what landed me here last time-”_

 _"Enough with your_ _squeaky_ _gibberi_ _ng, Smeet Unit”_ _the bot interrupted him. “Your time in the Time Out Corner ought to be spent reflecting on your mistakes in order to better serve the Irken Empire._ _Your options are:_ _to_ _hear me sing the praises of Irk._ _To h_ _ear_ _me list_ _the accomplishment_ _s_ _of all the Tallest in order._ _To h_ _ear me list all the laws of the Empire"._

 _"Hmmm...”_ _ZiM pondered._ _“Tallest's accomplishment. Haven't done that in a while"._

 _The recording started;_ _t_ _hough at this point he remembered_ _all that litany_ _by hear:_ _he_ _was a regular visitor_ _of the Time Out Corner_ _._

 _N_ _o one had ever explained_ _to him why exactly he was being sent there,_ _but from what he understood, his_ _awesome, impetuous_ _energy_ _would sometimes_ _become too_ _much for his smeetsmates to handle. Which made him feel_ _very_ _special,_ _true that,_ _but being special often felt... pretty boring,_ _admittedly._

 _ZiM tried at first, but wasn’t able to fully listen to the bot like he usually did: h_ _e was_ _just_ _too excited thinking of tomorrow._

 _Passing_ _P_ _urpose_ _Evaluation T_ _est would finally allow him to enter the adults' world_ _and b_ _e considered a full,_ _complete I_ _rken:_ _f_ _or an Irken with no purpose might as_ _well not been considered an I_ _rken at all._

 _And his purpose would've been a good one, too!_ _At this point, he didn’t even care to be a Tallest or a commander,_ _as long as_ _what he ended up doing earned him the respect and praise and attention_ _he so rightly deserved._

 _Because a_ _dults_ _such as that_ _didn't have to be confined for the sake of their peers’_ _fragility. Adults like that were listened to. And they didn’t have anyone who looked down on them._

_ZiM happily smiled at that prospect, swinging_ _himself on his butt._

_T_ _hey were_ _all_ _going to be so proud of him._

“ _Don’t have fun. Don’t smile" the bot admonished_ _him again,_ _"This is a punishment”._

"U-uh, uhm, I-" Driver stammered, slowly backpedaling on her hands.

_Oh, God. I’ve done it again._

"I think I might have... _misread_ you…"

Zim gave her an absolutely astonished, confused, almost offended look.

 _"Mis… read?"_ Zim repeated, tilting his head, his heart still racing from the near-undressing. "What did you misread?!"

"I, uhm... ehhh" Oh, Lord. This was so embarrassing. Why oh WHY hadn’t she just spoken clearly with him about this?! She KNEW something like that would happen!

She awkwardly looked down, her hands playing with the edge of her nightgown’s skirt.

"Okay” she sighed. “I guess I'll just say it out loud, and--- Oh, man. This is gonna have a _whiplash_ on the whole day, heh" she nervously chuckled.

Zim's brain quickly ran through of all the possible things she might intend, but was unable to find any that could justify trying to _undress him._

Driver took a big breath in. Then, she looked back up at him, and said:

"I wanna have (...) with you".

Zim stared at her. He blinked. What was that keyword she had just said?

"What? You want what?" he asked.

"(...). I wanna have (...) with you" she repeated, speaking up.

His brain was either failing or refusing to process that word.

"Are you just making some random noise there, or is it me?"

"SEX" she almost yelled, frustrated. "S-e-x. _SEX"_

 _"... sex"_ he repeated, without really grasping the word beside its raw sound.

"Yes. ‘Have sex’" she nodded.

"’Have sex’" he repeated.

"Yes"

"With me?"

"Yes. ‘I wanna have SEX with you’" she spelled out.

"’You wanna have sex with me’" he repeated.

"YES, I do"

"... uh... 'sex' as in…?" he asked, uncertain.

"Ahhhh..." Driver sighed loudly. "'Sex' as in 'copulating', Zim. Y'know, eh.. _. 'mating'"_ she flexed her index and middle fingers together.

Ohhhh. THAT kind of sex.

Ok.

Uhm.

Yes, ok.

Hm.

...

  
  


_... waaait-_

"WHAT?!" he screamed, his knees jerking up to his chin, "YOU WANT WHAT?!"

"Uhm… Heh” Driver chuckled again. “I get now that's not what you were going for-"

"You thought I was trying to MATE with you?!" he screamed again, absolutely indignant that any of his actions could have been interpreted that way.

"Uhm... maybe?" she tried, "I-I mean, it's- it's a fair assumption to make, isn't it? You _did_ touch my breasts".

Ah, 'breasts'. Right. _That_ was their name.

"I-I didn't know that would mean... _something!_ I-I just touched them because they were _squishy!"_ he defended himself. "Why would I ever- Why would YOU wanna mate, even?!"

"... are you really asking me why people have sex, Zim?" she asked.

Face on fire from the embarrassment, Zim looked _and_ shifted the opposite way from her on the sofa. Was this really happening? Were they really having that conversation? Why?! _Why did he have to touch the squishy fat on her chest?!_

Driver blinked. He… he really had never thought of the possibility of sex between them? How was that possible?! _Unless…_

"I mean... you KNOW what sex is, right?" she insinuated.

"Of course I do!” he squeaked. “It's uh, when two people, uhm... get _naked,_ and then... rub their _crotch parts_ together, to make more of them!"

Driver slowly nodded.

That was about accurate, but… _God._ He was even less familiar with the subject matter than she thought.

"But you can't procreate more humans with me! Why would you wanna do it?" Zim argued.

"I'd do it for… _recreational_ purposes, heh” she chuckled. “I mean. Why do you think I approached you on that first night?”

Zim’s eyes got so huge he felt like they were gonna roll out of his skull.

 _“… you… what?!”_ he said in but a chocked out whisper.

“C'mon Zim, a girl approaching you alone at a bar, offering you a drink?” she nervously pointed out. That expression he was giving her almost made her feel dirty for her flirting. “I thought that was obvious! And now that we are a couple, it should be doubly, triply expected that I would wanna do it with you, shouldn't it?”

Zim swallowed down. He could hardly believe it. All this time...

"… so… you've always wanted to… ehhh" that actually recontextualised SO many otherwise nonsensical actions on her part. Like her trying to undress him, or… _groping his crotch..._

"I-I thought you knew!” Driver stammered. “Don't Irkens have sex?"

"Well, obviously not!” he denied. “It's an _outdated, inefficient, barbaric_ reproductive system!”

Driver’s heart jumped in her chest.

 _Oh, no._ That confirmed something she’d long feared...

"Wait a minute” she spoke more calmly. “You mean to tell me Irkens don’t have sex. At all?"

"No! We use cloning, a-and genetic engineering!" he explained.

"... so YOU never had sex? Ever?"

Zim’s cheeks burned even hotter at that question.

"Er- N-no!... no, of course not!"

"... no experience whatsoever?” she continued. “Not even... _on your own?"_

"… ‘on my own’?" he confusedly asked back.

Driver blinked again. Wow. This was so much worse than she’d initially thought.

"... you mean to tell me you've gone _centuries_ without _ever_ having an orgasm?"

 _"... having a what?"_ he asked.

Zim had never cared at all for sex. Why should he have, even? Thus, obviously he didn’t know anything specific about it!… but… seeing Driver so surprised and dumbfounded at his ignorance admittedly did make him feel… a lil bit embarrassed… _mortified,_ even...

"I'm sorry, I'm not making fun of you!” Driver tried to sweeten her tone, realizing how her insistent questions might have sounded. “I'm just finding it hard to believe that you would never even _try_ something! Sure you must get some _urges_ from time to time, right? Like, uhm… when we, y’know, kiss? You aren’t actually aroused when we kiss?"

_Aroused? HIM? ZIM?!_

Zim swallowed down again, shrinking against the sofa’s corner, as if he could be sucked between the pillows and vanish from that conversation.

"No, I’m not! And even if I wanted, I couldn’t ever get… ‘urges’! We Irkens don’t even have the _parts!"_

A huge wave of crushing disappointment fell on Driver.

"… you don’t... have _genitals?"_ she explicated for him. Maybe she had just misunderstood his words.

"No, I don’t!" he repeated.

"… are you sure?"

“Yes!”

_"… sure sure?"_

"Yes, I am!" he yelled. Why was she making this harder than it had to be?!

"Ah... ok...” she sighed. She turned from him, sitting in the opposite corner of the sofa.

“… never mind it, then" she whispered.

An awkward silence fell in Driver’s well lit living room. Outside, from the window behind them, came the happy chirping of the birds.

Zim almost wished he could be one of those birds: out of that room AND of that conversation.

He gave Driver a furtive look. She was still looking the opposite way, embarrassed. Should he just… teleport back to the lab? No, no way: he didn’t want to leave things weird like that. Maybe he should just… push his embarrassment aside, and try and talk this out normally. As hard as that would be, now that he knew that she saw him _that_ way...

"... so you, uhm... have... sex?" he tried.

"Yeah” Driver smiled, slightly turning towards him again. “I mean, not right now, obviously. Because I'm your partner. But yeah" she nodded.

"And you have...” Zim turned his head, and looked at her crotch. _“… sex parts?"_

Driver closed her legs tight, as if he could somehow see under her clothes.

"I sure do"

"Hm" he nodded, thoughtful.

"... uhm… what does it... feel like?" he asked.

"It’s, uh… hard to explain. Because it’s kind of its own thing” she replied. “Arousal is a need like hunger or thirst are, but... _down there._ Sexual pleasure itself is like being... _massaged,_ I guess, but instead of relaxing there is a _pressure_ building up inside you. And an orgasm is the _release_ of that pressure" she explained at the best of her abilities.

“… and that feels… pleasant?”

“Yeah. Yeah, a lot. It’s pretty much the most intense pleasure the body can sense”.

Well. That explained why she wanted to do it, at least, despite how _gross_ and _naked_ it was…

"… and all couples do it?"

"… most of them, yes” she admitted. “But it's okay! We don’t have to do it!” she then reassured him. “Plenty of couples don’t have sex! It’s fine! I should have just been more open with you, and asked you earlier if this was okay to try!"

Zim nodded, but knew that actually it wasn't fine: he could tell from her initial reaction. That was clearly something she really wanted to do, but couldn’t because of HIS background. They were already so different from other couples, in that they couldn’t exactly show their partnership in public and he couldn’t fall in love back with her. And now, another _limitation,_ and it was because of him and him alone!

… although… now that he really thought about it… could he really say he had never… _felt… something… down there?_

Zim shyly looked at Driver.

"What if I... sometimes... _did_ get the urges?” he asked.

“… what?” Driver asked back. She wasn’t sure she’d heard him right.

“… I think I have... felt some... _things. Down there"_ he whispered, his finger timidly pointing down between his legs.

"… you have? _Really?"_ she asked, feeling a glimmer of hope lighting up again in her.

"I-I’m not sure, but uh… sometimes… when we touch, or kiss, or… when I think about you… I feel my _guts… shifting,_ and _warming up!_ … between my legs” he admitted.

“That… _does_ seem like arousal” she nodded.

“Y-yeah, but it doesn’t make sense! I shouldn't have anything down there!… but... I also never personally _checked…"_ he admitted.

“Well… there must have been a time in the past where Irkens had sex, right? Otherwise, it wouldn’t make sense for there to be males and females!” Driver pointed out. “So maybe even if it’s something you guys haven’t done in a long time, you still do have the… ‘parts’, after all!”

Zim’s heart skipped a beat. He had… never considered that…

“No, that can’t be! The records in my PAK clearly state that Irkens have always used artificial hatching! And-”

“I’m sorry, but how is that possible?” Driver interrupted him. “You’re telling me a species reproduced artificially right from the start? Before even inventing electricity or medicine?”

“Uh… but… but then-” he stammered, struggling to find a viable explanation. Yet, those two clear contradictions vividly co-existed in his files. “… what about my records?! Why would they put wrong records inside my PAK?!”

“Isn’t it obvious? They _lied_ to you” Driver bluntly stated. “Governments rewrite history all the time”.

The simplicity with which she delivered that statement felt like a pin jabbed in his heart.

"But… why would they _lie?"_

"Control, I guess. When you have sex with someone and make kids with them, your loyalty usually goes to them. Fighting for love is something very primal. It’s the biggest motivator to fight along with greed and hate. Governments know that, so they try to substitute themselves to family. It’s textbook dystopian government praxis".

Zim looked down, feeling perplexed and confused. That made too much sense for his comfort: were all those files implanted in him really lies? Maybe... they were kinda _justified,_ hiding something as gross as sex. Still, to lie like that to their most loyal subject… did they really put so little trust in him and his comrades? Fearing that they’d run off with the first person they mated with?

Driver’s expression softened: clearly, that consideration had been a pretty hard blow on Zim… along with the one she’d already dealt to him shortly before. _Poor little guy…_

"Well, sorry for getting so political. Let’s just forget about this, okay?” Driver patted on Zim’s back.

Zim looked up at her, and she left a peck on his forehead.

“Sorry for startling you" she sweetly smiled at him, "We will work everything out, okay?” 

Zim blinked.

That... actually did the opposite of reassuring him.

Why did Driver always have to teach to him?

Why did she always end up having to coddle him?

Why did she always have to make sacrifices for him?

Couldn’t he, for once, just… KNOW what was going on, and be capable at it?

Couldn’t he, for once… NOT act like a clueless, clumsy _idiot_ in front of her?!

… wait a second... if what he sometimes felt really _was_ arousal... maybe then he really _could_ have sex?

And would that have been such a huge transgression? More than what he’d already done? There was no rule against ‘having sex’ with someone. Technically, the closest rule was ‘no unauthorized smeet production allowed’. So, was it even real mating if they couldn’t produce their own shared offspring?

And after all, if this was really something that would make her happy, he could do it, right? She’d already done so much for him: he owed it to her, to at least try.

Zim clenched his fists, and confidently spoke up:

_"Let's do it"_

"… what? ‘Working everything out’?" she asked, genuinely confused.

"No, the _sex_ _thing!”_ he clarified. “Let's just do it!"

"… ‘let’s just do it’? What?!”

“Yeah, if I can feel aroused, it means I can do _sex,_ right?” he explained.

“I-I mean, I guess, but- just like that? Just a moment ago, you were-”

"Yeah, because I’d never thought about it! But now that I have thoroughly thought about it-”

“In ten seconds?” she sarcastically asked.

“-AND I know that it's something couples do, I’ve decided to give it a try!" he nodded, hands confidently placed on his hips.

"But Zim, uh-” she stuttered, “It’s not that simple! It’s not something you do just because someone else does!”

"If it’s something humans can handle, then so can ZiM! What's the big deal anyway, it's just rubbing, no? So it's like making out, but down there, right?" he dismissed her worries.

Driver looked at him with huge eyes. Was… was that a dream? What was going on? When had their roles reversed?

"No, Zim! Sex is much more intense than making out! It's the most intense physical experience one can have! Not to mention the emotional toll! And-"

"Yeah, exactly, you see, all the good things you’ve said about it have gotten me curious!” Zim interrupted her, and to be frank, that was a wee bit true too, “And now I wanna do it too!”

“Zim, you- it doesn’t work like that!” she shook her head. “It’s not something you do just because you’re curious, or because other people do it, or because you can ‘handle it’. You really have to wanna do it!”

“I do wanna do it! I JUST said so!” he retorted.

"Just five seconds ago you were saying no!"

"I changed my mind! Can’t a ZiM change his mind?!” he spoke louder.

“Zim, I’m telling you for your own good!” she raised her voice back. “You don’t know what you’re getting into!”

Zim furrowed his brows in an angry expression.

“Why do you always have to be so _patronizing_ with me?!” he growled.

“Uh-!”

That line left Driver paralyzed.

“I said I wanna do it. Shouldn’t that be enough?” Zim continued. “Is it so wrong to want to do it because it’s a couple thing? Or because I’m curious? Most of the things I’ve done with you, I’ve done them for these same reasons, and everything has been fine so far! So I don’t see what the issue is!”

“Yes, but...” she uncertainly mumbled. “I dunno. This is different-”

“Yeah, maybe, but I don’t need your coddling!” Zim kicked down on the sofa for emphasis. “ZiM is perfectly capable of making his choices! And I wanna try this whole ‘sex’ thing out!”

Driver bit the inside of her cheek. She looked up at Zim, looking all confident in his own angry way.

He clearly didn’t know what he was getting into.

But… if he said he wanted to try it out… who was she to question it? Admittedly… she did have a bit of a tendency to baby him. If he’d done the same to her, she would have been pretty annoyed too.

She should have on the contrary been flattered that he’d chosen her to be his first experience, right? Maybe the initial scare he’d caught had only been caused by the abruptness of her actions! Now that he was completely informed and confident on the matter, who was she to question his word?

“… you’re right, Zim. I’m sorry. I have been a little too overprotective over you” she admitted.

“Apologies accepted” Zim solemnly nodded. “So… let’s just do it, okay?”

"Uh... right... now?" Was… was he for real? What had happened to him?!

"Yeah! You were going to do it anyway, right? … Also… reintroducing the matter later might be even more awkward!”

“That… IS true” she had to agree.

Well, after all… why not, anyway? If they were going to do it eventually, it might as well just be right now.

"Well, uh... okay, then" she nodded.

"Yeah, hmm hmm" he nodded back.

"Let's do it"

"Let's do it!" he echoed.

Silence fell between them again. They awkwardly looked each other in the eyes.

"Uhm..."

"Uhhh..."

"... you should probably start" Zim suggested.

"Right, yes" Driver nodded. "If anything makes you uncomfortable, say it right away"

"Okay"

"I'm serious. You gotta tell me if something-"

"I get it! Just don't make a big deal about it, and it won't be!" he waved his hand dismissively.

Driver bit her lips. _Alright, then_.

So she leaned in, and kissed him.

She tugged his shirt, gently nudging him back lying on the sofa.

Zim kissed her back, hands on her arms. So far, nothing particularly different that usual.

"Ah!” he suddenly broke their kiss. “Just for the record. How much is this gonna last?"

"Uh... it depends? It can go from like... twenty, thirty minutes, to a couple hours" she replied.

Dang. That was potentially very long in make out time.

“Alright!” he nodded. “You may continue”

"Uhm...” she reflected, “Do you want me to take your clothes off or... ehhh... do you wanna do it yourself?"

Oh, crap. He had completely forgotten about the whole ‘being naked’ thing.

"Do I... have to be naked?” he asked with an awkward smile, “Isn’t it just our crotches?"

"I mean... I guess not? We can just... take the pants off".

Zim nodded.

Driver was about to kiss him again, when something else came to her mind:

“Would you like to be on top?” she asked.

“Uh? What’s that mean?” he asked back.

“Do you wanna be above me or below me while we do it?”

Zim pondered on it. Being above looked a lot less overwhelming, but… on the other hand… that would also mean exposing his naked crotch much more clearly to her.

The image of his naked butt being out for her to easily see flashed into his mind, making him yell:

 _“Below!_ Hehe!” he let out an awkwardly hysterical chuckle, _“Below is fine!”_

Driver nodded, trying to hide her worry for him. Though she should have expected him to keep the tough guy act up even -no, _especially_ during a moment like this.

Still, she was gonna try and get him in the mood as much as possible: she softly kissed his lips again. Slowly, she trailed down his neck. To his chest, to his belly. And even though he still had his clothes on, he could feel every movement _very_ clearly.

She hooked her fingers in the edge of his pants, and started lowering them; her thumbs brushed against his naked buttocks as she pulled them down to his knees. She took a look at his crotch, and… stared at it, unsure on what to do next.

A shiver ran through Zim’s body as he felt the skin on that area being out in the air for the first time in so long; he took a deep breath, eyes pointed straight at the ceiling: he’d never felt so exposed to someone else. But at least the hard part, getting naked in the first place, had passed, and-

"Uhhh, Zim? You _are_ male, right?" Driver asked.

The sudden uncertainty in her voice made him lift his head up and look at her, something he was actively trying to avoid: she was _there,_ looking down between his naked legs, and- _oh, man._ The morning light was so bright, she surely must be able to see ALL of it SO well.

"W-What?" he timidly asked. He really wished he hadn’t looked down.

Driver’s eyes scooped his crotch for ANY signs of a genital apparatus, but… the only thing remotely resembling one down there was a _slit_ in his skin which looked an awful lot like a… _well..._

"You are _male,_ aren’t you?” she repeated. “Because, uh, if you aren’t, we can stop right now, pretend none of this ever happened, and then in fifty years this is gonna be the funniest story ever to tell at parties-"

"Of course I am!" he protested, “It’s on my ID!”

Or… at least he thought so? He'd never thought too much of his sex. What did it even have to do with sex-oooh! So THAT’S why it was called that...

"Hmmm..." she reflected. She’d probably come to that conclusion way too fast. Maybe Irkens were one of those species who kept them inside… some males didn’t even have one!… which would have been incredibly unfortunate, for the both of them.

She lowered one hand, and gently, lightly touched that slit with slow, circular motions.

Zim looked away again: watching her touch him was _way_ too much for him too handle.

"Do you feel anything?" she asked.

"Y-yeah"

"I mean, do you feel any pleasure?"

"Oh... then no" he shook his head.

She stopped her fingers. Maybe he wasn’t aroused enough.

"Would you feel more comfortable if I undressed?" she proposed.

Zim turned back to her, antennae perking up and eyes widened. Driver, _naked? In front of him?!_

_“U-uh, I-I mean… I don’t know, I guess if, uhhh---”_

Driver took her nightgown’s edge and casually started raising it. The simplicity with which she uncovered her legs, her belly button, and her chest made the whole scene seem even _more_ unreal. There was so… much… SKIN. _Way_ more skin that she’d ever shown him.

When he saw a glimpse of two darker spots on her chest, he immediately averted his eyes, feeling that it was inappropriate for him to stare at her like that.

Driver threw her nightgown aside, now completely naked aside from her panties, but noticed that he wasn’t looking at her at all, with his face turned to one side and his hands awkwardly fiddling on his chest.

“Zim? Are you okay?” she asked.

“Y-yeah, sure!” he tried his best to sound convincing. “Just continue. I just… need to get _used_ to this”.

Driver put her hand back on his slit, and Zim fought with all his strength his instinctive urge to close his legs together. What was the problem? Couldn’t they just _rub crotches,_ and get it over with? Was something more supposed to… _happen,_ down there?

"How about this?" she tried spread the slit of skin with her fingers, rubbing right between its two folds. Though… that didn’t look very pleasant: there was still no clear sign of genitals, and his skin was extra dry down there. Maybe there was nothing down there after all, like he’d said-

“Oh, yeah!” she surprisingly heard him say. “I think you’re doing it, yes! Go on” he nodded.

Oh… good, then.

Too bad that that’d been a big fat lie on Zim’s part: those touches weren’t at all pleasurable. In fact… they were a bit to the _uncomfortable_ side.

 _Just endure it,_ he told himself. _She’s done so much for you. You can endure a bit of skin rubbing._

Her finger tried to dig a bit deeper in his skin.

“How about this?” she asked.

“Y-yeah, I think I’m ready for the rubbing part!” he confirmed with a strained smile, mostly because that movement had officially tipped the scales towards the uncomfortable plate.

That made sense to Driver, though. Her finger’s tip could touch a type of skin that was definitely different from the one he had on the outside: softer, hotter, and a little bit moister. So maybe she was doing it right!

Her finger rubbed more deeply, and Zim held in a gasp.

That had hurt.

He gritted his teeth. Maybe it only hurt in the beginning-

Her finger kept rubbing, causing a _stinging,_ _burning_ friction with his skin.

Zim instinctively looked down: Driver was naked, her eyes all focused on his lower half. From that angle, he could see her hand only from the wrist down, moving against his body. That sight almost made him _nauseous:_ he reminded him of his nightmares about a human scientist strapping him to an operative bed and digging in his insides.

Zim tilted his head back and squeezed his eyes shut.

_Just suck it up. You can’t tell her it doesn’t actually feel good: you’ve lied to her already, thrice. You’ll look even more like a dummy if you give up now. Just think about something else!_

But when he tried to distract himself, his first thought was: what would have another Irken thought, if they’d seen him like that, half naked and legs spread open, squirming under a human’s touch?

He immediately tried to suppress that thought, but it came back right away and stayed there, at the forefront of his mind, like it’d been _nailed_ there.

He tried closing his eyes, and he tried opening them: still, the only image they saw was that of his fellow Invaders and Irkens, reacting in various degrees of disgust and horror as they watched him attempting to _mate_ with someone.

Another burning sting of pain struck his crotch.

He clenched his fists. He’d never had a problem so far, repressing the thought of the other Irkens’ judgment on his ‘activities’ with Driver, so why was he now?!

Well… probably because this was the most un-Irken thing he had ever done. And that was saying _a lot._

Maybe getting closer, hugging, and even kissing could have been explainable, albeit with difficulty.

But this? Opening his naked crotch for someone to see? Fornicating? With an alien?!

His heart and breath raced, panic settling in his chest.

_Why did I agree to this Irkens can’t have sex I’m not built for it It hurts I must look ridiculous I don’t know what I’m doing why did I say yes this is so embarrassing what if the TALLEST saw this oh Irk that’s DISGUSTING I-_

_"D-Driver?"_ Zim called to her.

Driver looked up, surprised at how coarse his voice sounded. Initially, she thought he may propose to switch position, since that one clearly wasn’t working for them, but then she saw his _face:_ he didn’t look good at all. In fact, from his facial expression and his paleness, he almost looked like he was feeling _sick._

 _“Can we stop?”_ he asked her with a miserable, trembling voice.

"YES!" she immediately withdrew with all her body, almost jumping against the sofa's armrest behind her. "YES, of course!"

Zim lifted himself up, and calmly put his pants back in place, face down. Driver herself fetched her nightgown, using it to hide her naked torso.

“Er- uhm-” she stammered, trying to find something to say.

 _Oh God. What happened? What did I do wrong? Did I_ hurt _him? Or maybe-_

Zim jumped off the sofa, and looked straight at her.

His face was absolutely impassible. It was so unexpected, whatever she was going to say died in her throat right away.

To be true, he too had suddenly felt devoid of any and all emotion, if not for one: _relief_ that he’d get to stop that _thing_ they were doing, and that he could _get out of that room._

"I must go back to the laboratory” he coldly stated.

"Uh- uhm, er, y-yeah! Yeah, sure!" Driver nodded. "Good, uhm. Have a good day at work, Zim"

"Good day to you, Driver" he nodded back.

And with that, Zim turned away. He walked out the living room and disappeared into the kitchen nearby. After a short while, she heard the sound of the teleporter being activated.

She clenched her fingers around the nightgown’s fabric. It had all happened so quickly, she’d barely realized that she was all alone on her planet again.

  
  


_Purpose Evaluation_ _Day had_ _finally come._

_All the graduating smeets were lined in front of the judges: there were three of them, dressed up all scarily, in dark colors, with high collars hiding most of their faces. They were sitting on three levitating chairs, on an elevated plane compared to them, enhancing their intimidating factor. Though to be fair, all adults were very scary._

_ZiM wasn't too worried about it though. He was so excited, he barely even listened to their opening speech -all stuff that he knew already, anyway, about how important Purpose Evaluation Day was, and how crucial their good performance was for the Empire and bla bla bla, hadn't they gone over that stuff already a million times?!_

“ _Alright” the one in the middle finally announced at the end of that speech. “Let us start with-”_

“ _ME! ME!” ZiM started jumping, “ZIM WILL START!”_

“ _Have patience, child" the judge to the right admonished him, "We have a list to go through!"_

_"Now" the middle one continued, "Step forth Smeet Unit Aar-"_

_Aar took one step forward, and Zim immediately pushed him rolling on the floor._

“ _ZiM shall start!" he repeated, shaking up his Total Annihilation Machine, "I’m the only one fit to graduate among them anyway!”_

_The three judges had all glared at him. The middle one spoke again:_

_“Smeet Zim, your failure to comply will be-"_

“ _The only thing ZiM fails at is failing!” ZiM had run in the space between the Evaluators and the other smeets. “Now behold my Total Annihilation Machine!"_

_The left one tilted his head in curiosity._

“ _What is that?” he asked._

_"Why, thanks for asking! This MARVEL of mass destructive technology seeks out any enemy in its range, and DESTROYS them with the best suited, automatically selected method out of thirty!" he recited the speech he'd played in his head many times over._

“ _That is pretty impressive” the left judge nodded._

_Yes! The first compliment from an adult! With more to come, for sure!_

_The middle judge sighed._

_"Very well. Can you give us a demonstration, Zim?" he asked._

_"But of course!" ZiM happily jumped on top of the cylindrical machine._

_He pointed a finger up at the ceiling, and spoke:_

_"And for my demonstration's assistants, I'd like to call..." he moved his index finger behind him, pointed straight at the other smeets._

_"My smeetmates" he grinned._

_The whole class collectively widened their eyes at him._

_"Wait, what?" the left judge exclaimed._

_"Are you joking?" the right judge echoed._

_"Of course not! See, this is the best AND fastest way to PROVE to you that I am the BEST of my class!"_

_"No, Zim, stop!" "Don't do that!" "Stop it, you idiot!" the voices of his classmates begged him for mercy._

_"Sorry, guys! Grades come first!" he innocently smiled as he activated the machine with a touch of his foot: its thirty different layers all whirred and turned, unleashing thirty different types of ammo -fire, bullets, acid, poisonous ants and twenty-six more- on ALL the people in the room. ALL the people. Even the judges. Ooops. He totally should have added them as an 'exception' like he'd done with himself..._

_But it was already too late: the room had already been thrown into a_ _bsolute chaos. People running and screaming as they were shot at, burned, and eaten alive by murderous bugs. Projects -clearly inferior projects- falling to the ground. Lamp bots exploding, panels falling from the walls and ceiling._

_Once every single Irken in the room had been incapacitated, either knocked unconcious, on fire, or paralyzed from fear and pain, the machine automatically settled down and turned off._

“ _YES! VICTORY FOR ZIM!” ZiM boasted. “This PROVES, without a doubt, that MINE was the BEST project out of all of them! Just look! None of them could stand against my invincible GENIUS! Right, judges?"_

_Left judge moaned in pain, his cape on fire. Righ judge glared at him from behind one of the ruined, previously-floating chair. Middle judge was nowhere to be seen. Oh, well. Two out of three was a good result, right?_

_Suddenly, two long lines of security and medical bots entered the room from two doors on either of its sides, their sirens blasting loudly as they hastily made their way to ZiM's injuried classmates._

“ _Oh?! A graduation charade? Neat!" ZiM cheered._

_Suddenly, someone grabbed him from behind, by his collar. They pulled him off his machine, and turned him towards them, his little legs powerlessly swinging in the air._

_ZiM's heart jumped in his throat as he saw middle judge's furious eyes scowling at him from but an inch from his own, his clothes all ripped and one of his antennae still on fire._

_Had he... done something wrong?_

_"You are NOT going to graduate from ANYTHING, you little monster!" he hissed._

_"Wh... what?" ZiM asked. Had he heard him right?! "You- you mean I'm not passing?!"_

_"Security bot!" the judge waved him in the air like a ragdoll, catching the attention of one of the bots. "Take this one to the Isolation Cell!"_

_"What?! No! You still have to give me a purpose!" ZiM protested, flailing his arms and legs around._

_"Right, guys?!" he tried calling to his fellow classmates._

_But as he scooped the room for help, he didn't find any form of support from them: even among the ones who were still conscious enough to look at him, all he could see in their eyes were anger, scorn, and disgust. Even Skoodge, who had an arrow poking out of the top of his head, gave him a disappointed look from a far away corner of the room._

_The security robot's huge, dark, ominous figure approached, its metal arms extending to grab him and take him away._

_ZiM's limbs fell limp._

_The terrible realization dawned on him with all its painful, heavy weight: he had failed._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You really can't write non-sad things with Zim once you take his character seriously, can you? Also, hopefully I'll post part 2 in the next week or so.


	21. Brain-Storm (Part 2 of 3)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Zim finally decides to confront his demons (with the help of a trusted old friend, of course).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys part 2 was getting waaaay too long so I decided to split it into two equal parts. So this arc is now a three-parter. I really need to compartimentalize this story more so I can update more frequently, and that's gonna start with this one. Thanks a lot to SpicySnowflake for helping me come up with a title and to Kenya, too, for giving me the idea to publish this part early in the first place ^_^

Black hole on.

Black hole off.

Black hole on.

Black hole off.

The little black sphere intermittently appeared and disappeared as Zim's finger pressed down on the button, then released it, pressed down, then released it, pressed down again...

Zim huffed as he kept the button down; the miniature black hole hovered behind the protective glass wall of the round platform in the middle of the lab on Nortyne 111.

He boringly looked at the little pitch black sphere. Why was he experimenting with black holes again? Technically, he knew the answer: he wanted to study the fabric of reality more closely before building the machine, to increase his chances of controlling the final experiment; back when he was inspired, at the start of his work, he'd gotten a dozen of cool, clever ideas on how to do so. But now that all that enthusiastic inspiration was gone, he couldn't evince much more about reality-warping than he already knew. And it was all so _dull._

 _Beep. Beep._ An alarm started beeping on the now red-flashing monitor in front of him: he gravity of the black hole was overworking the glass wall.

He looked down at his finger, which still kept the activation button down: a little more of prolonged pressure, and his fingertip would have caused the black hole to grow past the platform's containment capacity, erasing Nortyne, the part of space around it, and himself in the process.

The glass wall started vibrating, and Zim readily released his finger: the black hole disappeared into thin air; the glass wall kept on shaking for a few seconds. Then, it became still again.

Zim huffed once more. Whatever. At this point, he should just stop trying to come up with all this extra stuff, replicate the original machine in miniature, shoot it in the place where the Earth had disappeared, and hope for the best, as his original plan was.

An easy enough task, yet right now even that felt like a _titanic_ effort: he just felt so... _demotivated._ And _tired._ And _schmoopy._ Truly, he didn't remember ever wanting to lie down in a corner, preferably tucked in a _cheesy, greasy_ cocoon of _space nachos_ and chips _this_ bad.

Then again, working was not his worst option: if he wasn't working right now, at this hour in the afternoon, he would have probably been seated on the couch on Driver's planet, watching a movie with her, whose human protagonists lived out their perfect, _romantic_ adventures, getting along just fine with their _wives_ and _girlfriends_ and _partners,_ kissing and hugging and rolling naked in their _beds_ , to the tune of some sappy _love song_ in the background, without a care in the world, nor the threat of a _panic attack_ constantly creeping in the back of their heads- and THEN, had he done all that, he might have been reminded of the huge _lelephant_ in the room, as the humans said, and _then-_

Aaaand he'd thought about it.

"Uuurgh! _Nooo..."_ Zim groaned, letting his torso fall down and shoving his face in his folded arms on the keyboard.

No matter how much he tried _not_ to think about it, that botched attempt at sex kept coming back to the forefront of his mind; and with good reason: it had been the single most _embarrassing_ thing he had ever done in his entire life.

Initially, as soon as he had escaped that... _sex thing_ they were doing, taking cover in his new lab, he had felt a huge wave of relief.

But then, once he’d calmed down, the reality of what he'd just done had fallen down on him: after insisting on doing the very thing Driver was hesitant about, and after lying and pretending he was enjoying it, he'd just taken off, seemingly, from _her_ point of view, _out of nowhere,_ leaving her half naked and alone in the living room, speaking coldly and impassively to her as she clearly looked distressed and worried for him.

He’d immediately suppressed that feeling, diving deep into his work, with the reasoning that he would come out of it with a clear idea on how to solve the whole thing; however, when his eyes had casually looked at the clock on one of the monitors, he’d been hit with an even _guiltier_ feeling: he'd concentrated so much on his experiments, that he had accidentally skipped lunch with Driver, for the first time since they knew each other.

After the way he'd left her, how would she interpret that action? Would she think he'd done it on purpose? That he held the happening from that morning on her? Because he genuinely, _sincerely_ didn't: _that_ had been exclusively his fault. Then again, _exactly because of that,_ he didn't really want to confront her about it either.

The fact that she hadn’t even tried to come to the lab and call him for what was by now a well-ingrained daily ritual for them seemed to corroborate that hypothesis; and perhaps it might ALSO mean, that she'd in turn gotten offended at his sudden, senseless rejection.

In the end though, he'd decided that just waiting for dinner time and then play off whatever reaction she would give him would be the best option: he couldn't after all halt his mission like that, could he?

Dinner time had come soon enough anyway, and he had teleported to her house as he usually did (save for that terrible sense of _absolute dread_ that hung on him), and... at first, everything had seemed surprisingly _normal._

Driver had welcomed him with a smile, the table ready and the food almost cooked to completion, like nothing had happened. She'd asked him how work had gone, and what new experiments he'd done. When he'd asked the same things to her in regards to her farm, she'd replied accordingly. Everything seemed absolutely normal, if not for the fact that Driver seemed a bit less smiley and a bit more quiet. And she hadn't kissed him when she'd first seen him.

Still, Zim had figured she must have had the same idea as him: to go on as normal and pretend nothing had ever happened. A little out of character for her, but great! Truly, he'd felt so happy and relieved that they could go on with their cozy routine as normal, and just forget about that horrible _horrible_ accident, that smiling and laughing and bragging about his daily achievements had not been hard at all! He didn't even need to _pretend_ to do so!

But then, midway through the meal, as they were sitting and talking at the table, Driver had suddenly become quiet, and serious: she'd let out a deep sigh, and Zim's heart had thudded in terror, his eyes barred on her, in fearful anticipation of what she would say.

“Zim? I would like to say something about what happened earlier” her sweet voice had pierced his chest like she'd just spat a _venom_ _dart_ into it.

He'd guiltily looked down at his plate, and had mumbled a quiet:

_"Sure. Go ahead"_

"Alright" Driver had sighed. Then, slowly, she had gone on with her speech: "… I’m... _sorry_ about what happened. It was all my fault. I shouldn't have pushed you into something you didn't want".

Zim had started playing with his food with his fork. He still remembered it very well, from how intently he’d stared at it: stir-fried rice mixed with eggs and minced vegetables.

“It’s okay" he'd murmured, "You didn’t push me”

“It’s not okay, and I _did_ push you" she’d argued back in a somewhat authoritative voice.

“I insisted to do it…” he’d scooped up a forkful of rice and swallowed it with great difficulty: his throat was too dry even for Driver's delicious food.

“I knew you weren’t ready, and I still went with it" she retorted. "I knew something wasn't right, and I said nothing. I should have known better, _but I said nothing”._

Zim rounded up another bit of food, eyes firmly pointed down. His heart pounded loud in his chest; his belly hurt: he was so utterly humiliated he could have _died._

Still, he cleared his throat, loudly, so that she would stop with her _venomous words_ and let him speak instead.

"It wasn't so bad...” he tried raising his voice, but it came out much more strained than he intended. "Everything was fine. I just... got... _panicked_ over nothing for a moment, okay? It's not a big deal-"

"It _is_ though. I can tell" she'd interrupted him, and he'd felt a surge of... _embarrassed anger,_ directed at her, rising in his heart. As if he wasn't feeling enough negative emotions at the moment.

That line had made him feel so _vulnerable._ So _exposed._

Like he was _naked._

"So... uhm" Driver had continued, now a tinge of awkwardness tainting her confident manner of speaking. How she'd kept it down that well during the rest of that conversation was a mystery to him. "... I guess what I mean is, I understand why you're upset, and I'm going to give you as much space as you need until you _forgive_ me".

Zim had said nothing at first.

He'd raised a shaky hand, grabbed his glass full of fruit juice. Had drunk a sip of it, to wet his dry throat.

His final words on the matter had been:

"I'm not upset at you. I have nothing to forgive", and while it was true (at least the _second_ part), and while he'd put all the confidence he could muster into it, never had his voice sounded less convincing than while pronouncing that phrase.

The rest of the dinner had been consumed quietly, except for the clinks of the tableware. He wasn't sure what her reaction to that last line of his had been: he could not bear looking at her in the eye.

He’d forced himself to eat every single remaining grain of rice, even though his stomach churned in painful, uncomfortable protest at each bite. Once they'd both finished, her hands had entered his field of vision and grabbed his plate, in order to carry it to the sink and wash it.

As she put the kitchen back in order, Zim had jumped off his seat and excused himself, wishing her a good night in the most mechanical, coldest way yet; he had gone back to his lab, and had resumed working.

  
  


Zim clenched his fists and gritted his teeth, letting out a muffled growl into his arms.

He couldn't help but still feel some sort of _resentment_ towards her: why did she have to go ahead and bring that up? If she'd just kept quiet and gone on as usual, like he was _evidently_ doing already, now everything would be back to normal. That 'no lies, only truth' moral policy that humans liked to preach was _pure suicidal folly:_ it easily exposed your most embarrassing, undesirable traits to the people you _least_ wanted to notice, leaving you open for all kinds of attacks and pain. Just look at them: all this mess had only happened because he hadn't _lied_ well enough!

If only he had suppressed his panic... if only he had managed to pretend to like it... or, if that really was inevitable, if only he'd managed to convince her that the thing hadn't upset him...

He lifted his eyes up, looking into the void space in front of him, half of his face still buried in his folded arms.

He knew his anger with Driver was petty: that whole thing had happened because of _him._ They _both_ knew that. It would have almost been better if she'd acknowledged that instead of trying to take up the blame.

Zim huffed again. Everything around him either seemed _boring_ or _bleak_ or _both._ He regretted getting up from that couch so, so much: had he known what awaited him, he would have gladly stood through the pain and panic until it was over. It would have been WAY better than this reality where Driver didn't touch or kiss him or pay much attention to him _at all._

That's right, that domestic human-style life together had been straight up turned upside down: Driver still smiled and talked and joked with him, but she avoided almost all physical contact with him. No hand holding, no hugs, no kisses. Something was clearly wrong, and they both knew it: he could clearly feel the awkward, guilty air that persisted between them. He himself could only stand that oppressive atmosphere only for each meal's duration, which he still attended in the hope that things would finally come back to normal.

He guessed that was her way of 'giving him space'... even though he had already assured her that he had no qualms with her (not for what she thought, at least) and that he was over the whole thing. And that made him suspect that maybe there was another reason behind her aloofness. Maybe, now that it had turned out that he was more clueless about relationships than both of them thought... maybe now she was having... _second thoughts._

After all, he did nothing but causing her problems and worries and _disappointments._ No wonder she felt like she always had to take control and _baby_ him: what else could she do, when he constantly acted like a whiny, wormy _crybaby,_ whenever things between them got hard?

It wasn't a stretch, to think that she was finally growing tired of him: anyone else would have undoubtedly already dumped him.

Zim shut his eyes tight, and hit the keyboard with a frustrated, angry punch.

_ "Stupid... sex!"  _ he hissed to himself,  _ "Stupid... touch!"  _

He lifted himself up, standing up straight again.

He looked around, to check if anyone else was there. He lifted up his tunic. Then, he furtively sneaked a hand in his pants, to touch the same place where Driver had rubbed him.

And there was...nothing there. _Nothing._ Completely smooth, just as he remembered.

He tried rubbing with his fingers: nothing in particular again. He pried a bit deeper, and felt the slightest sense of pain, the same one Driver had given him, but fainter.

He withdrew his hand and wiped it on his hip, frustrated, but not surprised.

That warmth he occasionally felt probably meant nothing. It was either an ancestral physical response that had survived his race's evolution (posed that Driver's theory that Irkens used to reproduce manually was founded), or he had deluded himself into feeling it in the first place.

He didn't know which of the two explanations was worse: the first one being right would mean that his Empire had implanted a bunch of lies into his PAK. But if the second one were true... then it would logically follow that the other pleasant sensations he felt with Driver may also be delusional.

Both theories were too plausible for comfort; the second one was especially unsettling: it was the same conclusion he had initially drawn when he'd first started being attracted to Driver. And now the evidence was piling up...

After all, Driver didn't need to _learn_ how to express attraction and affection, much less did she need to be _taught_ what exactly they were: she just _knew_ that. And she didn't need to _pretend_ to like rubbing crotches, or anything at all for that matter: he could tell by looking into her eyes, that all that she did and felt for him was _genuine._ And all of it held true because she was an _Earthling._

How about him instead? An Irken? He could ignore and pretend and reinterpret a lot of things in a way that made what he did with Driver sound less _preposterously inappropriate_ than it was, but at the end of it, he himself couldn't deny that if anybody had ever asked him if Irkens, in general, as a species, usually formed, or were even _made_ to form _relationships,_ his answer would have been a resounding... _no._ _No,_ they weren't. _Not at all._

Not ever, not now, nor would they ever be in the future.

What he had done so far was _acting_ like an Earthling. Maybe rubbing crotches and _mating_ was where the line that he as an Irken couldn't cross was drawn: then, his sudden panic and sense of shame during the act would have made a lot of sense.

Even with the hugging, and kissing, and all the other things that he'd done so far, it'd taken him a long time to get comfortable with. And that made him wonder... was there even a solid distinction between actively trying to enjoy something, and deluding oneself into believing to be enjoying something?

Zim started to nervously fiddle with his hands. He didn't like doubting his feelings for Driver. He didn't want to believe all the tenderness and admiration and _longing_ he felt for her was _fake._ But how could he be sure? Like, _sure sure?_

Already, the feelings they had for one another weren't equal: Driver had confessed to be in love with him multiple times, the _highest_ type of affection existent on Earth. What about him? They didn't have anything remotely similar to _love_ on Irk. He'd even had to make up a word, _'squintz',_ to rationalize what he felt for her!

Driver seemed to be fine with that, but he was sure that if she knew that he had doubts on that feeling too, she would have been absolutely _heartbroken._ He at least would have certainly been if Driver had ever gone back on her words...

"Urghhh! _Enough!_ I don't wanna think about this anymore!" he whined in frustration, shaking his head in an attempt to clear his mind.

He went on, voicing his complaints louder and louder in the empty, dark laboratory around him:

"Can't things just go _well,_ for once?! Why must there always be a _problem?!"_ he threw his arms up, then grabbed his antennae and pulled them down. "RRRrrrgh! Why do I keep overthinking this stuff?! I used to be able to get over things so easily! So why is it so hard now, that I'm doing better than I ever have?! Can't I just be HAPPY, for once?! _Can't I-"_

_BOOM._

The sudden rumble of an explosion interrupted him, leaving him startled and confused: it had gone off in the distance... above him.

He looked up, through the glass ceiling: the sky was dark, covered with _grey clouds._ He remembered the morning sky being clear and bright with the sun's rays: the weather must have slowly worsened during the day, and with his eyes gradually adapting to the changing light, he hadn't noticed until now. But that ALSO meant that-

Something hit the glass. More precisely, _a series of things_ hit the glass in rapid sequence, one after the other. Like _bullets_ fired by a machine gun.

Zim flinched down, his eyes big and pointed straight at the ceiling.

 _"Nooo..._ no, it _can't_ be-"

 _BOOOM._ A louder _thunder_ exploded, and this time the sky was lighted up by the flash of a _lightning._

The hitting sound resumed, this time stronger, longer, and he could finally see its source: droplets of water were falling from the sky and onto the glass.

It was _raining._

"Argh, no! _It can't be!_ Why here?! _Why now?!"_ he cursed at the treacherous, raining sky.

The sky seemingly took offense to that, because it poured an even more copious wave on the ground.

Zim flinched again: he wished he hadn't polished that glass so well. It was practically invisible: his enhanced eyes could perfectly see the water hitting and flowing on it, like it was gonna fall past it and onto him any moment now, and _burn_ him. Oh Irk, please don't let it _leak..._

He looked back down, at the room around him: it really was much darker than usual. How could he be so distracted as not to notice it? He should have never taken up the habit of turning the lights off during the day!

He took one step away from the desk, with the intention of reaching the light switches, but abruptly stopped: looking at the room had made him have a realization.

The laboratory was already pretty spacious, but with so little light to illuminate it, it almost looked _empty_ , save for the dark silhouettes of the machines and the computers.

And it... _reminded_ him of something...

"Urgh! Not this again!" Zim complained, slapping a hand on his forehead, "Why do I keep remembering _that?"_

He tried taking one more step, but the sky exploded with its _loudest thunder_ and _flashiest lightning_ so far.

 _BOOOM,_ rumbled the sky, so loud he felt its vibration shaking in his antennae _and_ in his chest, as if to say: _You stay right there._

"Eee!" he yelped, and as he jumped backwards he hit the desk with his thigh: in the split second when the room was lit by the lightning, he could have sworn he had seen one of the machines _move._

And the memory of the Security Robot looming over little smeet him had immediately flashed into his mind.

"Nooo..." he wailed, pressing both his palms on his closed eyes, "Why are you _showing_ me this?!" he asked, vaguely addressing his brain, or his PAK, or whatever was projecting those _images_ in front of his eyes.

 _Uuuuuuuh._ Outside, the wind howled ominously.

The impacts of the water drops against the glass ceiling hammered on his ears as the rain's intensity increased: a storm was brewing on the ground above him.

Those chaotic, loud, _scary_ sounds resembled perfectly, in a metaphorical sense, the emotions and thoughts he'd had that day, when the Security Robot had taken him from the Purpose Evaluation Exam and dragged him to the Isolation Cell-

 _"It doesn't matter!"_ he shook his head, "It was just a _mistake!_ They did give me a _purpose_ in the end! They didn't mean to send me there! I-it wasn't so bad anyway!"

Another loud _BOOOM!_ made his heart jump in his throat, and he cowered back behind the desk, with a choked gasp.

He peeked at the room, his eyes just a little above the level of the desk: the flowing water was projecting creepy, _smoky_ shadows all over the room. He wanted to stand up right and reach the damn light switch, but his body refused to move: he felt completely _paralyzed._ His arms hands knees were shaking. His breath was heavy and irregular. He was shaking back then too, he remembered, only he was flailing and tossing his limbs all over the place; not that that could help him in any way against the Security Robot's grasp...

"A-ah, t-this is- this is so stupid! I-It's alright, I'm fine-" he tried reassuring himself, but hearing his voice coming out so shaky and weak only managed to _increase_ his unease: and despite knowing how irrational that was, his mind was still _deadly sure_ that if he took one more step away from that desk, a cold, merciless _metal hand_ would have come out of the darkness and _grasped him._

Those huge, creepy shadows dancing on the lab’s machines surely contributed to that: they made them look _alive,_ plotting against him.

Trembling, Zim moved the only way his muscles allowed him to: down. He crouched, scooping with his bottom under the desk, and he leaned against one of its metal boards.

He hugged his legs to his body, squinted his eyes shut, and allowed himself to remember that memory: maybe then that irrational fear and panic would finally _leave_ him, once he remembered how not-that-bad-after-all that experience had actually been.

Oh, but it still wasn't the least bit pleasant. He could almost _sense_ the robots metal hands grasping his little, soft waist, mercilessly lifting him up above its unfeeling head, and then-

  
  


_ The Security Robot floated towards the Examination Room's exit, carrying ZiM with it, holding him up above  _ _ its _ _ head.  _

_ ZiM's eyes darted between every single other smeet in the room, passed out or otherwise, hoping that someone,  _ _ anyone  _ _ would come help him. But none of his smeetmates came to his rescue, no matter how loudly and how desperately he begged them: all he could see on their faces was indifference at best or anger and scorn at worst.  _

_ Not even Red and Purple lifted a finger- though to be fair, Red was occupied tending to a screeching Purple who had gotten a blow dart straight in _ _ to _ _ his eye.  _

_ Skoodge was the only one not  _ _ to  _ _ show  _ _ him _ _ apathy or outright hostility, but he did look... strangely disappointed in him.  _ _ Even  _ _ Skoodge, who had always showed nothing but admiration in him...  _

_ When the robot successfully carried him out of the room and into the outer corridor, ZiM became even more panicked, and tried to fight off his aggressor:  _

_ "Let me go, metal head! Let GO!" he helplessly hit the claws closed around his waist, trying to stretch his little legs and kick the robot's head, "Listen to your Irken master! He has an EXAM to take!"  _

_ The robot kept on floating, heedless of his orders: ZiM helplessly watched the Evaluation Room's door get smaller and smaller in the distance, until the robot turned a corner in the long corridor. As he would later recall, that was the last time he ever saw it.  _

_“ NO!" he yelled, contorting his torso in every way possible to in some way slip out of the robot's grasp. "Stop it! I mean it! I-if I don't take the test, you're gonna get in a lot if trouble! They will dismantle you for this!!!"_

_ ZiM kept on screaming and squirming, alternating between pleas and threats, as the rooms and corridors and corners inexorably passed him  _ _ by _ _ , until the robot's floating march abruptly halted.  _

_ He turned around, as much as the robot's hold on him allowed him to: there was a door there, behind him, the only one at the end of that narrow corridor, and there was a big sign in glowing letters above it, which read:  _ _ Isolation Cell.  _

_ The robot's red eyes flashed, and the sliding door opened.  _ _ I _ _ t  _ _ promptly _ _ lowered  _ _ the little smeet _ _ , and unceremoniously rolled him on the room's floor.  _

_ ZiM immediately jumped up, but only managed to get a glimpse of the door's  _ _ shutters  _ _ sliding back in place: they  _ _ locked _ _ him in the room before he could even take one step.  _

_ Still, he ran and started punching it, yelling with as loud as he could:  _

“ _No! Let me out! You CAN'T lock me in here!"_

_ No response whatsoever came from the outside. ZiM took a quick look  _ _ at _ _ the room around him: it was small, square, and absolutely empty, if not for one dim ceiling lamp, with a dark floor and pristine white walls. _

“ _Please, let me out!" he yelled, realizing that maybe a more polite tone would have done the trick. "I’ll miss the Evaluation! They still have to give me a purpose! Hey?! Heeeey?! Anyone?!"_

_ Silence again. Just the sound of his veins and heart hammering in his chest and temples.  _

_ He stopped with the punching, his hands tired and sore from all his hitting on the robot's and door's metal.  _

_ He felt a sort of... wave of sickness, traversing his whole body: he realized now, there was a very very VERY real possibility that no one would let him out  _ _ in time _ _. The exam was probably continuing in the other room, without him...  _

_"U-uh... no..." his face reflexively contorted. He could feel a knot in his throat, and tears prickling at his eyes._

“ _Please… I did everything they asked” he said, calmer and quieter,_ _k_ _eeping his mouth one inch from the door. "I destroyed more than anyone! I beat all my smeetmates! So why...?_ “

_ Complete silence again.  _

_ He pressed his clenched fists against the door, and helplessly looked at the fissure between the two  _ _ shutters _ _ , hoping that  _ _ they _ _ would somehow open.  _

"…  _ what did I do wrong…? Please, whatever it was, I promise I won’t do it again! Please, give me another chance!” he tried one last time  _

_ No response.  _

_ He  _ _ also  _ _ realized now, that there was probably no one on the other side of the door to listen to him in the first place:  _ _ j _ _ ust him and an empty room, away from the exam and the other Irkens, and even the robots.  _

_ And no _ _ ne of them had any intention of letting  _ _ him out of there.  _

“ _Uuuhh...” he whimpered as tears started streaming down his cheeks._

_ He took a few steps backwards, and dejectedly sat o _ _ n _ _ the floor, against the wall opposite to the door. He hugged his legs to his chest, and helplessly sobbed and whimpered, the image of his smeetmates' angry eyes glaring at him flashing in front of his eyes.  _

_ He looked at the door, the only  _ _ thing  _ _ worth looking at in the empty room, and _ _ waited, _ _ shaking and crying, knowing that it probably wouldn’t open for a long time.  _

  
  


“Mmmh…!” Zim frustratingly pressed his face tight against his knees, to the point it became difficult for him to breathe.

That memory was so _embarrassing_ to think about: he was just a sniveling, silly little smeet; as it had soon turned out, his reaction had been completely exaggerated: one Evaluator had later gotten him out of the Isolation Cell he’d been mistakenly been locked in, and assigned him a purpose, just like he wanted. So why was that old, _happy-ended_ story affecting him so much?! He was usually so _good_ at pushing down unwanted thoughts and emotions: it was one of his greatest talents, actually! A soldier’s greatest skill was to properly discipline his own mind, and he of course, as Irk’s best soldier, was _extremely gifted_ in that ability. Why, just WHY was he suddenly so _inept_ at it?!

Zim slowly looked up: he’d almost forgotten he’d crammed himself under the desk. The laboratory was still dark, and the storm was still raging above the surface, he could hear.

It must have been a truly pathetic sight: Invader Zim, cowering under a desk like a scared whipped dog.

_ It’s just like that time, isn’t it?  _

A voice inside him spoke, and he shivered.

_ Not much has really changed since then, has it?  _

“ _Oh, shut up!”_ he hissed to himself, “You’re not real! I have NO reason to doubt myself, I just- I just-”

The voice continued, somehow speaking over his _actual_ voice:

_ You can’t do something a billion stupid humans do every day, even when you’re guided every step of the way. _

“… uuhhh...” a pained whimper escaped his throat, the memory of that other horrible episode playing before his eyes. He covered his ears, in a futile attempt to block out the soundless voice.

“Go away...” he weakly mumbled.

_ You can’t do something a billion other Irkens do every day, even though you’re programmed to do so. _

_ BOOOM. _ A loud thunder went off outside, a flash of lightning lighting up the room for a split second, and Zim almost jumped in place, startled.

“ _Aaah! Ah, n-no-”_ he let out a scared, chocked gasp; he planted his heels into the floor and pressed his back even further against the board behind him, eyes wide in fear: it had almost seemed to him like the voice and thunder had teamed up to _berate_ and _scare_ him. Or as if they somehow came from the same place…

 _That’s right, that’s the kind of place where you belong,_ the cruel voice continued, _Cramped up in a dark corner where you can’t bother other people with your incompetence._

A particularly acute and creepy wind howl screeched. Zim hugged his arms, shaking all over. This was absolutely crazy: it was like the whole world, his mind and the forces of nature itself had suddenly turned _against_ him.

_And don’t bother trying to get out. Every time you feel so bold as to do so, there’s always gonna be a Security Bot ready to drag you back to your cell anyway. Might as well make yourself comfortable and get used to it already._

BOOM BOOM BOOOOM. A grand series of _three_ thunders roared, so loud they echoed inside the laboratory’s big empty space, each accompanied by a spectacularly long and bright flash of lightning.

A wave of shock and fear washed over Zim’s whole body from head to toe, his already shaky breath turning to outright _panting._

But that exceptionally intense scare was apparently exactly what he needed to snap out of his panic: what followed it was nothing short of an unadulterated, self-assured _rage._

"ENOUGH WITH THIS!  _ E – NOUGH!" _ Zim yelled, flailing his arms in an X shape. "I am TIRED OF THIS!"

He finally scooped himself out from under the desk, and jumped on the chair nearby: he took a deep breath, turned his face and fists up at the dark, raining sky, and shouted his rage-filled protests:

"I AM  _ ZIM!” _ he pridefully declared, “AND I WON’T LET MYSELF BE SILENCED AND STORED AWAY EVER AGAIN! YOU HEAR ME, UNIVERSE?!”

BOOOM. The thunder harshly rumbled again above him, with the rain hitting the glass ceiling in copious, loud waves. Still, Zim didn’t desist, pointing instead an accusatory finger up:

“I DON’T CARE HOW MANY TIMES YOU TRY TO SHOVE ME IN A TIME OUT CORNER! OR RUIN MY MISSIONS! OR TAKE MY HAPPINESS AWAY FROM ME! ZIM WILL ALWAYS RISE AGAIN, AND TRIUMPH OVER ALL THE FILTHY ENEMIES YOU SEND MY WAY! YOU GET IT?!”

Zim panted, his throat aching from all that sudden shouting, and waited for the sky’s answer: there was another thunder, but this time much farther away and _quieter_ than the previous ones.

Even the wind seemed to suddenly blow a little more calmly than before.

Good. The _Universe_ must have understood who was boss here.

“That’s right… I’ve been going about this the wrong way!” Zim considered, pensively raising a hand under his chin, “This… this _un-wellness_ that has poisoned my mind, is just an enemy like any other! And enemies aren’t beaten by ignoring them!”

He jumped off the chair, and confidently walked into the creepy dark room in the light switches’ direction.

“No matter! I don’t care if it’s my memories, or my emotions, or even my own self! I’ll make them regret ever THINKING they could make a fool out of Zim! Shaming me! Shoving me under a desk! Keeping me away from Driver! I will face you all and put YOU back in your places! YES, even you, ME!” he screamed as he painfully jabbed a threatening finger into his own chest.

He brashly grabbed the main light switch lever, and turned it down: all the main lamps in the room instantly lighted up, illuminating the room with their bright yellow light.

Much, much better: all lighted up like that, he couldn’t believe he was ever afraid of being in that harmless laboratory.

“Mmmmh… yes, but how to go about it?” he further reflected, “I don’t have anything to analyze my brain or PAK with here. It might take days to build them for scratch, and I don’t have that kinda time! I need to solve this _right now!”_

“I have to admit… this is _unexplored territory_ for me” Zim started pacing back and forth around the lab to help himself think, head low and lost in thought. “How does one cure a mind without cutting the head open? Then again… If the problem is my own self, I might not be the best choice for this job. My very perception of myself has been so all over the place lately: it might _spoil the results”_ he bitterly admitted.

“I know several alien species have mental doctors that do their self-reflection for them. And the ‘talking-it-out’ technique has worked in similar circumstances before, with _Driver,_ who IS an alien, and seems to be well-versed in the art of mental self-management, but- _ugh!”_ he stubbornly shook his head, “I can’t ‘talk-it-out’ with her! I can’t burden her with my mind problems again! And I don’t wanna show myself to her until I’ve figured this whole mess out!”

“Still… I might be onto something there. If this alien cure really works, then the answer would be to interrogate one on the matter. _Yes!_ Someone who has a good knowledge of the afflictions of the mind, and, ideally, who is also familiar with relationships and their problems! Someone I know I can trust with my own mind! Someone like- like-”

_… oh._

“ _Oh, no!”_ he wailed, passing both hands over his face. Did he really have no other options? Maybe he could teleport himself on some alien planet, find one of these _mind doctors,_ and demand their help! On the other hand… finding one without the help of his trusty SIR unit would potentially take a VERY long time. _And_ the one person he’d thought of was already proven to be _very_ trustworthy.

“Aaahhh… alright” Zim sighed. “I guess I’ll just have to be vague about the most embarrassing details. I’m out of options anyway, and my time is running out. Ohhh, this is gonna be _horrible...”_

Worried, but still determined to find a solution to his problem, he went to the only computer in the room that had a _call feature;_ he took a deep breath in, then typed in the number, operating as quickly as possible before his embarrassment could get in the way and block him again.

The beep beep of the connecting line seemed to go on infinitely. Then, somebody finally picked up: _Prisoner 777’s_ face appeared on the monitor.

“Hello, Zim” his friendly, but bored voice greeted him, “What do you want?”

Zim jumped, as if surprised that he actually responded to his call.

“Er… _hi”_ he timidly waved his hand up. It was the second time now that he called him without knowing exactly how to start the conversation. Still, with a lack of a better idea, he went on to ask: “How are you?”

Prisoner 777 hesitated for a moment, his eyes widening (as wide as a Vortian's tiny eyes could get), seemingly surprised that he would ask something like that.

“I’m… okay, Zim” he slowly replied. “You know, eh… being in prison… slaving away for my Irken overlords...”

“That’s good” Zim nodded.

“Uhhh… how are... you...?” Prisoner 777 asked, uncertain.

“I’m good” Zim smiled, though his voice came out sounding a little too tired and unconvincing, _“Sooo very good I feel!”_

“Oh… okay” Prisoner 777 nodded. “I’m glad to hear that”

“Thanks!”

“… alright, sooo… I guess I’ll see you another time then?” Prisoner 777 lowered his finger to the edge of the screen, to close the call.

“No no no! _Wait!”_ Zim frantically waved his hands to stop him.

“LOOK, I- I- urghhh!” he frustratingly punched the keyboard. Then he hissed, in a lower voice: “Look, I wouldn’t be asking for your help in such a matter if I wasn’t out of _options!”_

“Okay…?” Prisoner 777 guiltily _and_ confusedly looked left and right, “Sorry for being your only option…? What do you want from me, anyway?”

“Okay!… Ahhh, okay” Zim sighed, trying to keep his racing breath and heartbeat under control. “You see… errr… the fact of the matter is... _I have a problem"_

"You have a problem" Prisoner 777 repeated.

"And the problem is... well... uhhh… I’m… going… _insane”_ he managed to admit with great difficulty.

"You're going insane" he repeated again.

"… Yes"

"... uhmm... care to be more specific?"

Alright. Let’s do this!… _vaguely!_

Zim joined his hands, and started explaining, trying to appear scientifically curious and not emotionally invested at all:

"… so... ok, let’s say that, completely hypothetically, you were an Irken, alright? And your wife was still a Vortian, but in love with you this time-"

"Thanks, Zim"

"-and you were together in a pseudo-ally-relationship, right? Well, heh, obviously, as staunchly as you'd try to resist her affections, that would be bound to cause some conflicts in you, right? Sooo... how would you handle the situation?”

Prisoner 777 stared at him for a moment. Then, his face contorted into a displeased frown:

"... are you having problems with your girlfriend again, Zim? You should probably talk about this with her, then. Didn’t I tell you already? ‘Communication is key’ and all that? I-"

"NO! NO no, hahaha, she- uhm, she- she is NOT my girlfriend! I already TOLD you, right?! She is a _partner-ally_ that I teamed up with to help me bring the humans down!" Zim hastily corrected him, “But anyway, the point is-”

"Well then, I guess it's not that urgent, is it?” Prisoner 777 boringly pointed out. “Just bribe another human. Or maybe blackmail them with their kids. Speaking of which, you’ve not been on Earth for a while, have you? I can tell from the lab you’re standing in” he threw a couple glances behind Zim’s shoulders. “So you can’t threaten me with my kids this time”

“Uh-” Zim’s eyes widened, his heart skipping a beat from the sudden fear, “B-but-”

“Goodbye. Call me when you have an innocent race to slaughter or something” his finger hovered again over the out-of-sight button.

"NO NO NO! _Please,_ don't do that!” Zim practically jumped at the screen “I- I- ehhh-!”

He swallowed. He was probably gonna have to reveal a little more than he wanted to. Not that the other Irkens would believe a Vortian's word over his own…

"Look, it's not an hypothesis I’m talking about! The truth is… I _promised_ this girl a- a certain type of relationship! …. a little _more_ than a partner-allyship” he admitted, “A-And I thought I could keep it up, within reasonable limits, b-but... _I keep messing up._ I keep messing up, and it's becoming more and more obvious that I'm just not cut for this, and it's ended up taking a toll on my mind! And- and-"

Each word spoken stirred up his emotions, bit by bit, until his heart almost burst and the back of his face felt like it was _swelling_ with tears. He really had hit rock bottom, hadn’t he? Almost _crying_ in front of a Vortian...

“… There’s… there’s something wrong with me. It’s like I’m not in control of myself anymore, and I don’t know why that is!” he said, voice shaking, “I can’t just _talk_ to her. I’ve already disappointed her so many times- things are so awkward between us now, I-I feel like she might be about to leave me! You’re… you’re my only option. I just... I-I need someone trustworthy, who won't tell on me and who won't judge me... _please?”_

Prisoner 777 hesitated to press the button, his face showing surprise and… something else. _Compassion,_ maybe?

“Uh- A-and I’m, I’m sorry about your children! I promise if you help me just this once, I’ll free them and send them to you as soon as I get back to Earth! Deal?” he joined his hands again, this time in a begging gesture.

"... wow, Zim” Prisoner 777 panted, astounded to the point of being out of breath. “You really _care_ about this girl, don't you?"

Zim timidly nodded in confirmation.

“That’s… so unlike you! I didn’t even think it was possible for you to care about another person!” he exclaimed.

“I know...” he mumbled, looking away from him in embarrassment.

“… and I know you've been seeing a thera-pist, right?” he recalled. “And you've known me for a long time. So I thought, maybe you can help me figure out what's wrong with me!”

"Well… yeah, but I don't know if I'm qualified! Going to therapy is not the same thing as practicing it! I’m an engineer, remember? " Prisoner 777 argued. “Besides, my therapist is a very cheap one, for _prisons._ If I followed his example I would have to prescribe you hempzin leaves, and I’m pretty sure Irkens don’t smoke-”

“Then treat my mind like one of your machines! _Engineer_ it! Eeehhh” Zim flailed his hands around, afraid that he’d finally say no. “… look, I don’t know what else to do! I’m really desperate! Can’t you at least try? Pleeeease?” he stared at him with huge, sad eyes.

Prisoner 777 sighed, seemingly moved by his pleas.

“… ohhh, alright. Tell me about it” he conceded. “What’s been bothering you?”

Zim sighed out a breath of relief. Now came the actual hard part:

"Well, you see, ehhh… the human is… _great._ I've been really hitting it off with her" he explained. "I mean, the connection between our minds! We are just so in tune with each other, she's the best partner that I could ever ask for! But... she's different from me. I always knew she was, obviously. Because she's an alien- a _human._ I thought we could find a compromise for that, but... I'm starting to think I just can't possibly do certain things, as an Irken. Every time we try to go over a certain point, I always end up panicking! Ehhh... you see, she..." he swallowed down.

Boy, how he wished he could be anywhere else doing _anything_ else.

"... she... asked me to do something... pretty... _intimate._ And I said yes! But then, midway in, I... freaked out" he cringed a little more with every word he uttered. "And so... I-I'm pretty sure she hates me now, and-"

 _"Awww, Zim!"_ Prisoner 777 cooed, disgustingly full of understanding and compassion, "Is that what this is all about? Don't get so hung up on it! It happens to more of us than you think! You could take _pills,_ you know, there's nothing to be embarrassed about-"

"This is not a pill problem! ZIM TAKES NO PILLS!" Zim yelled, "Look, the _problem_ here is, I think all this _constant_ and _unnatural_ exposure to affection is causing my mind to _crack!_ I used to be so good at controlling my thoughts and emotions, and now they’re all over the place! I just want to go back to being my usual, _sane_ Zim-self!”

"So… you like her. But you were also thinking of breaking up with her, because her presence is detrimental to you? Is that what you're conflicted about?" Prisoner 777 guessed.

Zim’s heart thudded. Hearing that option being voiced by someone else made it feel much more real and tangible, and it felt… torturous and _horrifying_ just to think about.

"N... NO! No, I could never leave her!" Zim protested. “I-I just… want to be able to control my mind again, while I’m with her. It must be possible, right? I-I mean... if it isn't, I-"

Prisoner 777 stared at him, seemingly confused by his rambling. Zim lowered his head again, and admitted, in a quiet, timid voice:

“… I know you’re confused. I am confused at myself too! Every time I think too hard about it, it’s life I feel… a bagillion conflicting feelings about this all! That’s what I mean when I say I don’t recognize myself anymore: I used to be SO sure about what I wanted, or needed! But all that has changed since I met her!”

“I know this relationship stuff probably isn’t… _healthy,_ for me” he admitted, and he had to squint really hard in order to push back another possible wave of tears. “But, she makes me feel so… _happy,_ sometimes. She’s just so cool, and... she has fallen in love with me. She's said so, a couple times. I can't fall in love back with her, _obviously,_ but she has sworn her _eternal loyalty_ to me, so I can't help but think that I owe her! I can’t just leave her like that!"

"I think you might be exaggerating the implications of her confession, heh" Prisoner 777 smiled. "Well, Zim, if you don't love her back as you say, how do you feel about her exactly?"

"Well, I _squintz_ her, obviously!"

 _"Squ... intz?"_ Prisoner 777 spelled, "Is that an Irken thing?"

"Yeah! It means ‘enjoying a person’s company, all the while caring about their well-being and happiness’!” he explained.

"Zim, that's... that's _exactly_ what 'love' means" Prisoner 777 pointed out.

Zim blinked a couple times.

"……………………….……………….... no it doesn't"

"Yes it does!"

"Well, but it CAN'T be! I'm an Irken!" he impatiently denied, "We DON'T fall in love, we just can't! It's _physically_ impossible! Shouldn’t you know it by now?"

"Zim, I feel you are too fixated on words themselves” Prisoner 777 shook his head, “Maybe you should just allow yourself to feel what you feel, without labeling it. You know, 'listen to your guts', as they say"

"But how can I _not_ try to describe my feelings, when they cause me such discomfort? If I don’t define them, how can I sort them out?" he retorted, "Also, 'follow my guts'? My guts are a mess! I can barely control my brains these days!"

"Oh, yeah... you did mention that" Prisoner 777 remembered. "You keep having intrusive thoughts. What are they about?

"It's... a memory, mostly" Zim nodded. "It pops out at random times even when it's not the least bit pertinent!"

"Are you sure? Maybe your mind is trying to tell you something. What kind of memory is it?"

"Ohhh, just my smeethood graduation!" he dismissively waved his hand. "It's when they assigned me to that reasearch lab on Vort, remember?"

"Oh, I do remember!" Prisoner 777 exclaimed with a nostalgic smile, "You were such a cute, brilliant child. A bit destructive, though"

"Hey, thanks!" Zim smiled back, "But see, there's nothing upsetting about it! It was a very happy event for me!... as disgusting as Vort turned out to be"

"Mmm... why don't you tell me about it?" he proposed, thoughtful.

"... eh? Why would I? An Evaluator came and gave me my purpose, I went to Vort, I conquered it-"

"You didn't conquer Vort"

"-there, story over! I told you, it's nothing special!"

"Maybe telling it out loud will help you look at it in a different perspective?" he suggested. "Who knows. You might find out something you had never noticed before"

"I can't imagine what, though..."

"You'll never know if you don't try!"

"..." Zim put his hands behind his back, and awkwardly swung his foot back and forth. "... I don't really _want_ to..."

Prisoner 777 tilted his head.

"Why not?" he asked.

"Well- Well, because it's no use! I got evaluated, and I was happy, _boom!_ I got exactly what I wanted! _Perfect!"_

"… is there something you don't want to admit to yourself, Zim?"

That phrase must have stuck some kind of nerve inside his chest, because it stung: his messed up guts wanted to answer 'yes'.

"Come on, Zim" Prisoner 777 encouraged him. "How am I supposed to help you, if you don't tell me what's wrong?"

Was... something wrong with his past? He'd never considered that before. But, if the ‘follow your guts’ mantra held any water… maybe he should give it a shot. What did he have to lose anyway?

Zim took in a deep breath. He let it out, and started telling, from the moment his mind had last shown him: he was still in the Isolation Cell, and he was...

  
  


_ ZiM was still in the Isolation Cell, still waiting for someone to let him out of that room, seated on the floor, back leaning on the wall. And with each second that passed, he lost a little bit of hope that that would actually happen.  _

_ Not that he was counting the exact amount of  _ _ passing _ _ time: he'd turned off the internal clock of his PAK when it'd reached the twenty-seventh hour:  _ _ i _ _ t had just gotten too depressing  _ _ to think about _ _ at that point.  _

_ He wasn't even staring at the door anymore, though his eyeballs were technically pointed at it. He was just too tired to think or do anything, even if it didn't require any effort on his part: he'd literally cried and screamed to the point of exhaustion,  _ _ and  _ _ his eyes  _ _ were _ _ now heavy and dry, his throat  _ _ was _ _ achin _ _ g _ _ , his brain  _ _ was  _ _ unfocused and dizzy.  _

_ He'd kept himself from sleeping, as he didn’t want to possibly be caught asleep when they eventually freed him... though that too was starting to feel pointless.  _

_ He really wished he had at least a weapon in his PAK, with which to gun down the door, or the walls. Then maybe he wouldn't feel so helpless, whether he managed to get out or not. But of course, only purposeful Irkens could carry weapons in their PAKs. It all came down to the exam, didn't it? His  _ _ failed  _ _ exam. At this hour his smeetmates had probably had their first instruments installed in...  _

_ ZiM closed his eyes, ready to fall asleep. Maybe if he was lucky he would wake up finding out it had all been a bad dream.  _

_ Or maybe he wouldn't wake up at all.  _ _ He would have been fine either way, really. _

_ Then, all of a sudden,  _ _ he heard _ _ the door's mechanism clicked.  _

_ H _ _ is eyes shot wide open:  _ _ t _ _ he door's shutters slid open, and a fourth (unscathed) Evaluator  _ _ appeared at its threshold. _

_ ZiM stupidly blinked at him. Just half a second earlier he'd been dead sure he wouldn't see anything except that room again, and now the door was open and another person stood before him. Was he hallucinating, perhaps?  _

_ "You're Smeet Zim, from Unit #y85u58. Right?" the Evaluator spoke.  _

_ "Uh-" ZiM hesitated for a moment. That voice had sounded pretty real. Whether that figure was an apparition or not, he better answer  _ _ properly _ _ , just to be sure: he jumped up, straightened his back, and saluted him.  _

“ _Sir! Smeet ZiM reporting for duty, sir!" his voice sounded pitifully quiet and cracked, lacking his usual confidence and energy. Better not speak more than necessary._

_ "Mmmm... you've got quite a violent, dangerous record on you" the  _ _ E _ _ valuator thoughtfully slid his finger on his tablet. It was probably displaying his records. "Everything you touch ends up broken. Or on fire".  _

_ ZiM imperceptibly nodded. The Evaluator's voice was sweet and soothing, but also had a negative tone to it. Wasn't that a good thing? Wasn't the whole purpose of an Irken to destroy as much as he could?! He didn't even know anymore... _

_ "You're also pretty short for your age. Though your genetic height prediction is quite promising" he continued, his eyes firmly pointed down at the tablet. Like everything ZiM was was on that tablet, instead of in front of him.  _

_ The Evaluator _ _ raised his eyes at him for the first time, and unexpectedly... he gave him a complicit, reassuring, and  _ _ understanding  _ _ wink.  _

_ "A late bloomer, uh?" his cheeks rose: he was probably smiling under his high collar. "Don't worry about it. I was one too. I had my 1 foot height sprout all in one night" _

_ "Heh..." ZiM let out a quiet chuckle at him, his heart swelling with relief and comfort: the first kind word since  _ _ more than  _ _ twenty-seven hours. And thank  _ _ I _ _ rk, he didn't seem to be in trouble anymore.  _

_ "You know, that machine you brought at the Purpose Evaluation was impressive" the Evaluator went on to compliment him, "Did you build it on your own?"  _

_ ZiM nodded.  _

_ "Y-yes, sir..." he forced his dry mouth to spell.  _

_ "All the other machines we've confiscated from you were pretty remarkable too. Especially considering the limited material we provide smeets with" he read a few more lines from his tablet.  _

_ Then, he seemingly turned it off, and folded it under his pit. _

_ "I believe with a little more control and discipline, your destructive skills will prove very valuable, with a brain like yours" he  _ _ probably  _ _ smiled  _ _ again _ _. "That's why I've assigned you to a scientific research facility on Vort. Your skills will be put to good use, AND you'll be allowed to destroy and break _ _ s  _ _ s _ _ tuff _ _ much more freely, since it'll be foreign equipment -just don't say I told you, hah! What do you say?”  _

_ ZiM's heart stopped for a moment from the sheer, bursting  _ _ happiness _ _ that he felt.  _

_ That was the first genuine compliment he had ever received in his entire life. So… his efforts had been recognized?! He had passed the exam after all?! He wouldn't have to be left in that room, forgotten?!  _

_ If he hadn't literally run out of tears earlier, he would have  _ _ cried. _

“ _Oh, thank you!” ZiM excitedly bolted from his spot,_ _his energy replenished back to the brim,_ _r_ _unning_ _towards the Evaluator, and without really any conscious planning behind it, he jumped and hugged him, his arms tightly closed around his chest. “Thank you, sir! I won’t disappoint you, I prom-”_

_ The Evaluator hastily put a hand on his forehead, and pushed him away: ZiM fell back, and his PAK and head painfully thudded against the floor.  _

_ He looked up, confused.  _ _ H _ _ alf  _ _ of _ _ the Evaluator's face  _ _ was hidden _ _ , but he could see he wasn't smiling anymore: rather, he seemed to be embarrassed, and disapproving. All his supportive kindness suddenly  _ _ vanished _ _ into thin air.  _

“ _Ahem” he cleared his throat, and straightened his shoulders. “As I was saying. Control and discipline,_ _soldier._ _You better start working on them. Such lowly impulses are inappropriate for a true Irken. You understand?" he asked, his voice much more formal than before._

“ _U-uhm...” ZiM stammered, still disoriented and taken aback from that jarring reaction. He slowly got up, cheeks darkened from the embarrassment. He swallowed, wetting his throat as much as possible, and made another salute._

“ _Y-yes! Forgive my embarrassing display, sir!” he apologized._

_ The Evaluator clicked his tongue. ZiM would never quite understand, looking back on it, whether it was an approving gesture or a scornful one. _

“ _Follow me, cadet” he coldly ordered him, as he turned back and walked out of the Isolation Cell._

_ Zi _ _ M _ _ took a deep breath. He was still a little stunted, and his head still hurt from when it'd hit the floor, but he tried his best to ignore both sensations: he was finally getting out of that room, and he was doing it with a  _ _ Purpose _ _ for himself. He wasn't gonna let a little slip up ruin it for him.  _

_ He shook his head, and put on a more secure face:  _ _ a _ _ lright. This was his chance to prove himself. He marched behind the Evaluator, trying his hardest to match his pace with his little legs, leaving the Isolation Cell behind them.  _

  
  


"... aaand, that is all. See? Perfectly _pleasant_ memory right there!" Zim concluded his story on a joyful note.

Prisoner 777 blinked a few times.

"Ehhh… I mean… I guess it’s- Hey, wait, why were you in an isolation cell in the first place?"

"Oh, that was just a mistake!” Zim chuckled. “It wasn’t as bad as I’d thought anyway. Not too different from the Time out Corner actually-"

"Time Out Corner?"

"Yeah, heh, my destructive energy was too much for my wimpy smeetmates. So it occasionally had to be contained. In the Time Out Corner! For their own good! P _oor pathetic little things!”_ Zim went on to tell, “And of course, my bombastic prowess _exploded_ during the final exam. Or better yet: it made _them_ explode! Hah! If I’d stayed in the room any longer, they would have had to discard them all as _garbage drones!_ That’s why I was temporarily moved to an Isolation Cell, so that they could have their own chance to impress the Evaluators, lest my burning light outshone their pitifully _incompetent_ one!"

More confused staring from Prisoner 777. After a while, he cleared his throat, and spoke, in an inappropriately negative tone:

"Alright, uh… I’m pretty sure half of what you just said was just conjecture on your part. But besides that, you... talk as if you _liked_ being put in time out"

"Well, yeah! _Obviously!_ Such a fun time it was!" he rolled his eyes, smiling condescendingly at him.

“Zim, time- time out is a _punishment!”_ Prisoner 777 exclaimed, seemingly outraged by his words. “You were being _punished!”_

“Pfff, no I wasn’t!” Zim chuckled. “It’s called _discipline!_ It’s a way to teach soldiers to control their energy! You probably wouldn’t understand, because you’re a wimpy little _brainhead,_ but-”

"Did you like it though?" Prisoner 777 interrupted him. How so very… _uncharacteristic_ of him. “Did you really have fun being _locked_ alone in a room for hours? Really?”

Zim blinked a couple times. Now that he described the time out corner with those terms, it looked _much_ less appealing. And when he tried to think back of the sensations he felt at the time… he couldn’t really recall much except for… _boredom._

"Well- I- well, maybe ‘fun’ isn’t the right term, but-” he stammered.

“Did you like it or not? Just answer that” he interrupted him again. That sudden, rude boldness irritated Zim, who went on to angrily retaliate:

“Look, it doesn't matter if I liked it or not, it-"

"Yes it does! That's the whole point of the conversation, figuring out what’s up with your emotions!" Prisoner 777 relentlessly retorted.

"NO IT- Look, discipline isn't always _pleasant!”_ Zim raised his voice. “I might have gotten a little bored, but it made me stronger! Discipline makes you _strong,_ and you can’t become a good soldier without it!"

"Zim, that's not discipline. That's _child abuse._ No child should be punished like that!" Prisoner 777 argued back. “Especially such an active young mind as your own! They weren’t giving you the proper outlets and attention it required, so of course you would lash out!”

“Ab- _abuse-!”_ Zim involuntarily spat. That was so weird: Prisoner 777 was arguing and working to prove him wrong, but seemingly to _help_ him. Like _Driver_ occasionally did...

"Pfff, _yeah!”_ he forced himself to scoff with an arrogant voice. “That’s not even a _word!_ It sounds like a piece of alien propaganda Driver would say! This is just how it works on _Irk!_ You and Driver just don't understand, because you’re _aliens!_ And-"

"‘Alien’ this, ‘alien’ that!” Prisoner 777 taunted him, looking annoyed and frustrated out of his mind, “Aliens just don’t know better, do they? How bold, coming from the member of a race that steals all the good ideas from other planets!”

“YOU-!” Zim exclaimed, indignant. What was wrong with him today?! When had he gotten so bold?! _“You watch your mouth, you- you-”_

“Zim, you sound like a broken record! No wonder you haven’t been able to find a solution!” Prisoner 777 harshly pointed out. “If you don’t get over your preconceptions and biases, how do you expect to find the solution to ANY problem? Shouldn't you know that, as a scientist?!”

“I- uhm, ehh, I- You! Ehhh…!” Zim stuttered, struggling to find a good counterargument: he’d really thought he’d come to this discussion with an open mind, but… everything he was hearing made him so uncomfortable, he regretted having tried in the first place.

“Aaargh, look! Just get to the _point_ already! What do you want from me?!” he angry growled: then, after this one last exchange, he could close that cursed call for _good._

“I want you to admit how you actually feel about this memory!”

“F- fine! _Fine!_ NOT – GOOD! I don’t feel good at all! _Happy now?!”_ Zim angrily punched the keyboard below him.

“It wasn’t FUN being in the Time Out Corner!” he spat, his anger mounting, “I was BORED out of my mind! _Obviously,_ I would have much rather stayed with the others, and played, like any other normal smeet! _But I’m NOT normal! I’m DIFFERENT, there’s no one else LIKE ME, I’m the most incredible Irken EVER!_ So- so I needed to be- ehhh- t-to be-” Zim stammered near the end of his speech. How… weird: he often repeated those words to himself. To prep himself up. To make himself feel _special._ But now that he spoke them out loud, in that context, they… didn’t sound encouraging, nor remotely positive. _At all._

So when he went to close it, the words that came out of his mouth were staggeringly different from the conclusions he usually drew from such considerations:

“… to be locked… in an empty room… so no one would have to deal with me...” his lips, tongue, and _vocal cords_ seemed to work separately from his conscious brain.

That _phrase_ , that _memory_ that he’d always known, that’d always been self-evident inside him mind, suddenly translated to a completely new, terrifying truth: not only had he been hurt. Not only had he been _discarded,_ however briefly. It was the _Empir_ e that had hurt _and_ discarded him. Maybe not knowingly. Maybe not without reason. Maybe only temporarily. But it had _hurt_ him and it _had_ discarded him.

Zim confusedly looked down. At his body, his hands. They looked so weird: like they belonged to someone else.

When Prisoner 777 spoke again, his voice too seemed to come from a different dimension:

“See, Zim, that’s my point. You’ve been blaming your discomfort with intimacy on your girlfriend, and on your biology. But I don’t think there’s anything wrong with them” he told him, his voice now back to being slow, calm, and soothing. “Maybe… just throwing it out there… maybe it was the _Empire,_ who worked to repress a certain part of you?”

“… repress… me?” Zim mumbled, looking back up at the screen. He felt like his brain was floating in jell. “… how?” he asked, although… he realized now, that ‘containment’ was just a nicer word for ‘repression’.

All this time… the Empire had been _‘repressing’_ him?

“Well, like when you tried to hug that Evaluator. You genuinely wanted his affection, right?”

… he... did? … that... thing had ALSO always been right in front of his eyes, and he had _never_ even considered it.

“… I… did...?” he slowly repeated. “But… that means-”

_Ding._

Zim’s mind suddenly snapped out of its suspended state: following that last logical reasoning had seemingly lit up the voice of reason inside his head again.

_Now he knew what he had to do._

Zim looked up at Prisoner 777. And this time he wore a confident look on his face.

“I think I get it now. What’s been wrong with me the whole time” he told him.

Prisoner 777 smiled at him in a way that almost seemed… _proud._ Had Zim had any knowledge about familial dynamics, he would have probably described it as _paternal._

"I’m glad to hear that. You’ve really grown since I last saw you, you know?”

Zim smiled back at him, and nodded.

“Thank you”

“Don’t mention it, Zim” Prisoner 777 said back. “Sooo, anyway, about my freeing my kids-"

Zim cut the transmission off.

“ _No time for thaaaat!”_ Zim dramatically announced to the empty laboratory, an index finger pointed up at the sky. _“I have to go save my partner-allyship!”_

He quickly ran up to the teleporter on the other side of the room, typed in the code for Driver’s home, and teleported there.

As soon as he appeared in her kitchen, something struck him as bizarre: the room was immersed in the same kind of dim light as the lab on Nortyne was, with the same kind of monotonous noise playing in the background. It was more like he had entered another room rather than gone to another _planet._ Had he lost track of time and traveled there in the evening? Or...

He looked at the closest window: grey sky. Water splashing in drops against the glass. _Oh boy..._

“ _Urghhhh!!!”_ he frustratingly groaned. “It’s RAINING on this planet too?!”

He balanced himself on his PAK legs, and looked at the outside: a coat of dark clouds covered the usually blue, bright sky of Driver’s planet, raining waves of water drops upon it.

At this point it was clear: the universe WAS conspiring against him, annoying him in any way possible.

Well, she certainly wasn’t out there- wait, actually, that wasn’t to be excluded: Driver didn’t seem like the type who could be kept from going outside by _rain._ Oh, man, he hoped that wasn’t the case- but if she _was_ inside the house, how had she not heard him teleport?

“Driver?” Zim called. No answer.

He got down, folding his PAK legs back in place, and took a few cautious steps into the nearby living room: no one there. Only Cat, cozily snoring on the sofa, all curled up on itself.

Zim looked around the room for a few seconds. It certainly had a different feel to it than usual: the tv opposite to the sofa, the bookcases to the other side of the room, the ticking pendulum clock, the cupboards, the dark, square, empty hole of the fireplace. They were all pretty mundane, if not _primitive_ human-made objects, yet they looked so… _unreal,_ immersed in the dim light like that, with the sound of the falling rain coming from the outside.

He turned back, at the stairs between living room and kitchen: maybe she was upstairs.

As he started climbing them, it occurred to him that he hadn’t really been upstairs except for that first night when he’d met her; so when he got to the second floor, it almost felt to him like he’d walked into a different house (well, one eerily decorated in the exact same way).

“Driver?” he called again, but already he sensed that he wouldn’t find her there either. He still tried and looked into the other rooms, the bathroom, the study, and finally, her bedroom, the only upstairs room he’d been in before.

A long time had passed since he’d been there, and he’d only done so once, but the room was still as he remembered -only with a different change of blankets on the bed. But, no Driver there either.

There were only three more options left: the garden. The underground garage. Or maybe she’d gotten off her planet, for whatever reason.

True, he could have called her on her communicator, but… nah, he didn’t want to seem clingy. Especially _now._ At this point, he should probably just wait for her to come back: at the very least, she should be back about an hour before dinner time.

“Bummer...” he sighed: he’d been so determined and excited to talk to her and finally get this whole mess fixed up, and now he had to _wait._ He really hoped that wouldn’t suck out all of his enthusiasm, and the confidence he had built with such difficulty.

He walked up to the foot of her bed, jumped, and sat on it: it was soft and comfortable, just as he remembered. On the opposite wall was a window, red and pink flowers forming a second frame on the outside -they had to be the plants that she let grow all over the house’s outer walls. And further on, the rain, and the grey sky.

You know what? The rain there wasn’t _that_ bad: it wasn’t as dark as it was in the lab on Nortyne. And at least the annoying summer heat was momentarily gone.

He looked around, at the interior of the room; it was the same as the rest of the house: wooden furniture, floral patterns carved and sewn and painted everywhere, soft warm colors, black marble floor. Yet, it was also _different._ After all, humans’ bedrooms were their _personal_ rooms: that was _Driver’s personal room._ It added an extra bit of charm and comfortableness to it that the other rooms really didn’t have.

Zim took a deep breath, taking in the scent of the room with it. He really hoped things would go well between him and Driver: now he was sure, he definitely wasn’t ready to leave her _and_ what they had between them behind.

So he sat there, occasionally looking between the window and the rest of the room, and waited for her to come back home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So sorry for the erratic schedule guys. I'm still figuring this whole fanfiction thing out. I won't give a date for the next installment since I rarely ever respect deadlines but I'm at a very good point into the editing so it shouldn't take too much.
> 
> Still, I beg you to find the patience to please lemme know what you think of these chapters, I've been literally pouring my blood and tears into 'em XD


	22. The Irken Way of Loving (Part 3 of 3)*

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Zim and Driver finally have their most difficult, most honest heart-to-heart yet (and then they make love for the first time).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Saint Valentine's Day, you guys!... alright, it was yesterday. But the timing is still pretty good, admit it. ;)

Driver teleported back into her house; she took a deep breath, shaking off the dizziness from the teleportation. Only seventy more years of this, hm? _Baller._

She slowly stepped into the kitchen, a bag full of groceries in each hand, and one heavy step after the other, she reached her dinner table, where she took a moment to rest her spinning head.

Once that mellowed out, she started putting all the food she’d bought in its place, either in the cupboards or in the fridge, all the while recalling the recipe for the blastberry pie ingredient by ingredient: eggs, flour, blastberries, sugar, and an extra bit of butter to make it yummier…

She hesitated for a moment, one hand still around the handle of the closed fridge. She didn’t need anyone to point out to her that that idea was _naive and dumb,_ much less her own mind: a _pie_ wasn’t gonna fix this. And no amount of his other favorite foods that she’d just bought was gonna fix this either.

She sadly looked out the window: it was still raining, just as when she'd left the house. It went very well with her state of mind and situation overall, didn’t it?

She _did_ know, of course, what the only possibl e solution to it all was: just go to him and _talk._ But he’d looked so annoyed the last time she’d tried that. What was she gonna say anyway, that she hadn’t already? _She’d messed up._ Now it was up to _him_ to forgive her. And she didn't wanna come off as though she was trying to rush him, although... she could hardly wait for a clear answer from him at this point.

She sighed. She doubted Zim would want to make a first move. To be honest, his intentions and wants at the moment were a complete mystery to her. Sometimes, what he thought was so obvious, his mind might as well be an open book written in big, clear capital letters. Other times, like in this case, it was like an arcane book written in an indecipherable, mysterious alien language (pun intended), and it became impossible to know what the best way to approach him was.

Following that line of thought, maybe keeping some distance from him hadn’t been the best choice: Zim's mood didn’t seem to be getting any better. And in what way was it different from the ‘just-pretend-it-didn’t-happen’ attitude he had? They were still avoiding the problem, just in a more openly _miserable_ way.

Then again, if talking about it was the wrong move, but not talking about it was ALSO the wrong move, what could really be done about it? Was waiting for the awkwardness between them to gradually fade away on its own really their only option?

Driver turned her heels, and threw a quick glance at the living room: Cat was happily snoring on her sofa, in the same position she' d left him. The looming furniture cast dark shadows all around, over the floor, over the walls, and over each other. Normally, she would have found that atmosphere cozy and relaxing, but now all that quiet and dark felt unnatural, wrong. Almost… _dead._

_God,_ how she missed him. She missed being close to him so, so much. Did she really use to live like that before she met him? It felt so utterly, crushingly _lonely._ Just the thought of having to wait for who knows how much time for him to come around was _horrifying._

No, enough with that: that night at dinner, she was going to bring that up to Zim, and ask explicitly what was on his mind and how he felt about her. Although… she was terrified of what his answer might be.

Meanwhile, in her bedroom, Zim’s antennae straightened on his head as he heard her approaching steps climbing the stairs.

His heart started racing, and he held his breath: the time for confrontation had come. He turned his face to the door, and waited for her arrival.

When Driver saw Zim’s dark figure, sitting on her bed in the dim light, looking at her over his shoulder, she took a jump back, spooked: she definitely wasn’t used to having someone be in her house without her being present too.

Still, she collected herself and greeted him with a smile:

“Oh. Hey”

"Hey" Zim smiled back.

"Whatcha doing here?" she asked, taking a few steps into the room.

"Just ‘chilling’, as you humans call it" he nodded. "Where were you?"

Driver stopped for a moment, standing next to him as he looked up at her with a sort of… _worried air._ Had he been looking for her? Was that a good or a bad sign?

"Oh, you know. Just buying some food” she replied, trying not to show her worry. “Sorry, I should have left a note or something. I’m not used to having someone wait for me to come home”

"It’s okay. It’s your house. You can come and go as you want” he shook his head.

Driver smiled again, and slowly sat next to him on her bed: maybe this was gonna be a good opportunity to talk it out. At least she wouldn't have to wait till that evening.

Zim took a note of that good sign: it had been a good three days since she’d come so close to him.

They both turned their heads and looked at the rain, falling out the window.

"It’s really pouring down" Driver commented.

"On Nortyne, too, you know?" Zim replied.

"Oh? What a weird coincidence"

“More like an _annoying_ coincidence” he corrected her in an ironic tone.

“You don’t like rain?”

“You do?”

"Well. I do love how it sounds. It's so relaxing. I love the atmosphere it creates” she explained.

And then, out of nothing but pure impulse, she went on to tell:

“My grandparents’ house had an attic with a small window on the roof. I used to go there when it rained, when I was a kid. I would sit under the window, just to listen to it, for hours on end".

Zim reflected for a moment. Then, he nodded, and added something of his own:

“When you put it like that, I get it. On Irk, we don’t really get rain, but... sometimes, when I was a smeet, I would go to this corner in the break room; there must have been some kind of mechanism working in the wall there, because you could always hear the sound of moving machinery. So I would bring my materials, and do my projects and homework there, while I listened to it. It helped me concentrate. I guess it’s the same principle?"

“Sounds so” Driver turned her face back to him, smiling. It was so rare for him to share something from his ‘smeethood’. So perhaps he was finally feeling more comfortable with her again?

"Were you a lonely kid too, Zim?" she asked.

Zim turned to her also. He was about to say that Irkens didn't need friends or companions, but... that didn't really contradict her question.

"Yeah. I guess I was" he simply nodded.

“Aw” Driver gave him a sad, but sweet smile. At this point, Zim noticed, she would have normally done something _physical_ to comfort him, like stroking his arm, or hugging him. Instead, she simply sat next to him, hands pressed on her knees.

He looked at her, longing for her touch. He slowly slid his hand on the bed, closer to her, but she didn’t respond to that either.

“Did you choose this house because it was similar to your grandparents’?” he went on to ask.

“Well… yeah, in part” she agreed; though that hadn’t really been a conscious plan, at least initially. “Only, y’know. This one is on its own planet, heh” she chuckled.

“It’s very pretty. Easily the best Earth house I’ve ever seen” he smiled. “I bet your grandparents would have liked it a lot too”

“… oh” Driver’s heart jumped. How weird to have someone else talk about her old life. Sometimes she forgot that having told him about it meant he could form independent opinions and thoughts about it. Yes, it was nonsensical, but she had repressed it so much and for such a long time, she had always been sure she would bring those memories with her to her _grave._

But… that was very sweet. So, so very _sweet_ of him to say: she'd always wished she could show her house to her grandparents. At the same time though, something was _off_ about Zim. Like he was working to get at _something else_ he wanted to tell her, something very _specific..._

“… thank you” she finally smiled. Maybe if she limited her words it would leave room for Zim to express whatever was on his mind.

Sure enough, Zim decided to take on that opportunity: he sighed, collecting all the courage he could find in himself. _Now or never._ The right words, he was sure, would come out once he started talking. At least after that he would definitely be sure on how she was feeling about him.

He looked into her eyes, a serious expression on his face, and spoke:

"Driver? I need to talk to you about something important. I think you know what I mean”.

Driver’s heart thudded again, this time from _fear._ Oh boy, _here we go._ She'd never seen him looking so serious, too. Already, her mind was turning to the worst possible scenarios: 'You've upset me too much, so I'm leaving you'. _'You're a creep, so I'm leaving you"._

_“… yes?”_ she asked, her throat suddenly dry and shaky.

“Well… it’s about what happened with… _on the sofa,_ the other day. I’ve thought about it a lot, and made a lot of self-reflection, regarding the reason why I reacted the way I did” he explained, slowly, and it surprised him how calm he managed to be as he did so. “Especially in regards to my past. And to my… _inclinations,_ as an Irken. And I’ve come to the conclusion that-”

_“… you’re breaking up with me”_ Driver abruptly finished for him, barely able to control her trembling breath.

_“Uh-!”_ Zim stared at her for a moment, stunned by that sudden interruption. As he processed her words, he gradually became more and more _outraged:_

“… what?! _What?!”_ he exclaimed. _“Of course not! Why would I?!?"_

“I-I- uhm...”

_Because everybody ends up leaving me,_ _she_ mentally replied.

Driver guiltily looked to the side: she could feel _tears,_ pressing behind her eyes; she tried her best to push them back, feeling like she didn’t have the right to cry over a wrong that _she_ had done to _him._

“I-I don’t know, heh, I mean-” she nervously chuckled. She swallowed again, feeling her throat burn. _“… I-I really messed up._ I-I pushed you into something you didn’t want again, a-and-”

Zim noticed the glimmering in her eyes, along with the frowning of her eyebrows and mouth, clear warning signs that she was about to _cry,_ and that immediately set him into _panic;_ a surge of guilt and shame took over him, immediately regretting ever remotely _thinking_ of the possibility of breaking up with her:

“No no no! I would _never_ leave you, Driver!" he hastily threw his hands on her own, “You didn’t push me, Driver! You are the least pushy person ever! I was the one who insisted to go through with it, and messed the whole thing up!”

Driver took a deep, shaky breath. Still looking away, still unable to look into his eyes. It was a relief, that he wasn’t mad at her and that wasn’t gonna dump her, but that didn’t cancel the guilt she felt.

“But I knew you weren’t ready yet, and I went with it anyway! B-because… _because I_ _really_ _wanted to do it with you._ Do you realize how _selfish_ that was?”

_“Driver, no-”_ Zim worriedly took her hands in his own, and reassuringly squeezed them: never would he have anticipated such a reaction on her part. Had she been harboring all of those feelings of self-blame behind that aloof demeanor?

“You can’t read my mind, and I don’t expect you to!” he argued. “I should have just been honest with you about how I felt! I was the one who broke our promise to always be honest-”

_“But I always ruin everything...”_ she whispered, her voice trembling. In her eye, she felt the faint dampness of a small tear. “I always make you uncomfortable, and now I’ve even ruined your first time...”

Zim watched her struggling to contain her emotional outburst with increasing sadness, and panic, and _shame:_ all this time she’d been suffering in silence, while he’d only worried about himself and what that incident meant for _him,_ harboring a senseless, petty resentment towards her attempt to mend the issue on top of it. It almost made him want to cry too.

“No, _I_ always ruin everything!” Zim retorted, _“I’m_ the one who’s clueless about affection and relationships! You shouldn’t feel guilty about wanting to do your normal human stuff!”

“Oh, no, Zim!” Driver somehow found the strength to look back at him, “You don’t ruin anything! You have the right to be uncomfortable and upset about my ‘normal human stuff’! We are _aliens._ I shouldn’t have expected from you something that your species doesn’t even do-”

“But I agreed to it, because I was _insecure!”_ he raised his voice over hers. Oh, Irk, how he wished he’d gotten the chance to express these sentiments in a less humiliatingly open way! “I-I was so eager to prove that I was a good partner for you, because- because you’re so great and perfect at it, and-and I could never manage to pay you back, and-”

“See? That’s _terrible!”_ Driver raised her own voice and cut him off, “You’re a perfect partner as you are, and I still make you feel insecure over it!”

“No! That’s not what I meant!” Zim shouted, frustrated, _“I_ make myself feel insecure! _Shut up!_ This is all MY fault!”

“No it’s not! This is MY fault!”

_“No, mine!”_

_“MINE!”,_ they screamed into each other faces.

Zim glared at her.

“Why are you so STUBBORN?!” he growled, his hands clenching around hers, “We BOTH know the problem is me. It always IS me! That’s why I’ve been trying so hard to self-reflect in the first place!”

“You. Are not. A _problem,_ Zim!” Driver spelled, her firm tone almost making her sound like she was _scolding_ him. “You just aren’t! Don’t you EVER imply that! And if I ever made you feel that way-”

“You don’t, Driver! Believe me, _I’ve never felt as happy as I am when I’m with you!"_ he yelled back, exasperated, "Look, the feelings I’m dealing with- they have nothing to do with you, okay?! Not everything bad that happens to me is your fault! Sometimes, bad things just _happen!_ In fact, they’ve been happening A LOT, lately!”

Driver tilted her head, curious.

“What feelings?” she asked.

“When uh-” Zim stumbled on that first word: he’d somehow reached the core part of his original planned speech to her, and he hadn’t even noticed.

He took in as much air as he could, and finally laid everything out in one breath:

“- when I was a smeet, I hugged my Purpose Evaluator, and he pushed me away” he started. “A-and he looked at me with such… _disgust,_ and _scorn._ It made me feel _awful._ Like I was _dirty._ S-so, from then on, I guess, even though I stopped thinking about it, that memory was always there, in the back of my mind, and whenever I… w-wanted affection, or received it, I felt like I was still being _judged_! A-and that’s what happened, when... when we tried to _do the sex…"_

Zim stopped for a moment: somehow, telling that memory was becoming more and more difficult every time he tried.

Driver stared at him for a few moments: she’d always known his fellow Irkens had instilled in him an aversion to intimacy, but she’d never imagined something so specifically personal. And that he would ever open about it, too.

She was about to say something in return, when he continued:

“A-actually, that wasn’t the first time either. The first thing I EVER did in my life, as soon as I hatched, was saying ‘I _love_ you, cold unfeeling robot arm’ to it (the robot arm that hatched me), and then _hugging_ it!” he precised, cheeks _flaming_ from the embarrassment. “That memory was _also_ always there, but I rarely ever thought about it. Or _reflected_ on it. So I kept down my _affectionate instincts_ down, until I met you, and, uh- well, ok, I guess I did it again with Miss Bitters, now that I think about it, but it doesn’t really count, my body moved on its own as I thought of the robot arm-”

“Who’s _Miss Bitters?_ ” she asked.

“M-my, uh...” he hesitated. He timidly looked down. Maybe THAT he could have omitted... “… my _skool_ teacher”

“Aw, hehe” she chuckled. “That’s cute”.

Zim mumbled a quiet sound of disapproval.

“… but, uhm. You realize you have no fault in any of that, right?” Driver continued in a sweeter voice. "Not in what happened. Nor in the fact that you're still dealing with the pain and trauma it has left you with".

Zim turned back to her: that actually felt so, SO reassuring to hear, especially coming from _her._

“… yeah, maybe. But it’s not YOUR fault, either! I just… HATE it, when you blame yourself like that about the choices I make” he added with a low, near-angry hiss. “My mistakes ARE my responsibility. I can handle that, at least!”

Driver took a moment to reflect.

“… you’re right. But that doesn’t mean you have to deal with them alone” she finally replied.

Zim’s expression softened, his grip on her hands loosening: Driver could be kind to a literally _disarming_ point at times.

“Well, but… I shouldn’t burden you with all my… uh… _tre-umas?”_ he tried to argue, more calmly and quietly.

“‘Traumas’” she corrected him. “And no, Zim you’re no burden at all. Plus, I’m like, the _queen_ of traumas inflicted by authority figures, ha!” she smiled at him, finally giving his hands a squeeze back. “I was just worried that whatever was going on with you, you didn’t feel comfortable sharing it with me”

“I wasn’t uncomfortable sharing it with you. I… was… uncomfortable _acknowledging_ it with myself... that what happened to me as a smeet was _bad,_ I mean” he explained.

“… I’m glad you figured that out” Driver nodded back. “Facing such a hurtful memory must have been very difficult. It was very _brave_ of you”

“Heh. Thanks” he smiled, feeling a hint of pride at her compliment. ‘Brave’ was a fitting word, though: this whole experience had been _terrifying_ to get through.

“So… yeah, what I meant to say was!” Zim tried to give his ‘speech’ (if it could be called that at this point, as it had been more of a _dual rambling_ between them) a semblance of a conclusion, _“This is not your fault._ It was just my dumb memories acting up! In my brain! But now that I’ve faced them, everything’s back under control! So… can we, uh- can things just… go back to _normal,_ please?” he finished on a quieter, desperately begging note.

Driver stared back into his big, sad, but hopeful eyes. Another thing she _definitely_ wasn’t used to? Having someone actively desire her _companionship._ Now she realized what her biggest mistake in all of this had actually been: Zim wasn’t just seeking the approval of _someone._ He was seeking _her_ approval, specifically. And of course he would: he was her _partner._ _That was why distancing herself from him in his time of need had been a_ _horrible_ _idea:_ if they were to stay together, it was time she accepted that _he_ wanted _her_ as much as _she_ wanted _him._

“… _of course_ we can, Zim” she softly said. “But… only if you accept that your problems are no burden to me. And that this whole thing was no one’s fault! For real! No more guilt! Alright?”

“Y-yeah, sure!” Zim smiled back, incredibly elated at her positive answer, “I mean, this was really no one’s fault, right? Just a bad combination of _circumstances_! And _memories!”_

“Yeah, sure! Because ‘sometimes bad things just happen’!” she quoted him.

“Yeah! This is no one’s fault! … except that Evaluator’s, I guess”

“Yeah, sure! To hell with him!” she echoed.

_“Good!”_ he nodded.

“Yes, good, mmm mmm” she nodded back.

They looked into each other’s eyes, both wearing an intensely serious expression, until all that vigorous, reciprocal nodding became awkward instead.

It occurred to both of them then, that their hands were still joined between them. Their fingers reluctantly caressed each other’s palms, as they both tried to figure out what the best way to proceed was.

“… uhhh”

“… uhm-”

“Can we hug?” Zim finally proposed.

“Oh GOD, _yes”_ Driver panted out as she quickly wrapped her arms around him and squeezed him tight to herself.

Zim nuzzled under her chin and against her neck and chest, his own arms wrapped around her waist, reveling in her warm, familiar embrace.

Driver herself delighted in feeling the small shape of his body against hers. Zim was naturally very gentle and loving, wasn't he? At least a big part of him was. How cruel of his own people to try and suffocate it! At least though, they hadn't managed to completely erase it. And now it was _flourishing_ again.

_"I missed this so much"_ he said, his voice muffled as he spoke into the fabric of her jacket. "I was afraid you were avoiding me... or that you'd grown _tired_ of me..."

"Oh, no, Zim!" Driver affectionately stroked the top of his head, "I just thought you wouldn't want me to touch you, after what happened. I didn't mean to make you feel alone. I should have been there for you..."

"I should have been there for you, too!" Zim returned her strokes, running one hand up and down her back. "I had no idea you felt so bad about it! I-I guess... I didn't think you'd need me..."

Driver held him by the shoulders, and gently nudged him back; she kissed his head, right above his forehead, and as she cupped his cheeks with both her hands she guided his eyes to look into hers.

"Baby, you have NO idea how much I need you" she whispered. "You actually do so much more for me than you could ever know, or I could ever express. I thought I was okay, living all by myself, but... that was because I didn't believe there could ever be someone I could share my future with".

Zim looked up at her. At her sweet, _gut-meltingly loving_ eyes.

"… you do? _Really?”_ he timidly asked, “You actually want me here with you?

"Of course I do" she smiled. Her thumbs moved in little arcs, stroking his cheeks. "As long as you live with me, this is your home too"

"... home" he absentmindedly repeated.

How... simple, yet completely novel and _revolutionary_ that concept was: someone wanted and _needed_ his presence; not because of what he could do for them, but in virtue of _who he was._ Driver had already said so before, of course, but never had it felt so _true,_ so _real._

Driver gently scratched him under his ears; he relaxed, his eyes slowly fluttering closed as he relished in her touch.

He should have felt shame at that, he supposed. Allowing someone to touch him that way, and enjoying their effusions. Yet he couldn’t find in his heart one valid motive to be ashamed: he just felt so calm, and safe, and _happy._

Above it all, he didn’t have to worry that Driver would cast him aside at the slightest misstep: Driver was _always_ there for him. She listened to him, she valued his efforts, and works, and accomplishments. She longed for his company and wished nothing but happiness for him. She didn’t shove him in an empty room so that she wouldn’t have to deal with him when he got upset or energetic, and she didn’t push him away when he wanted to hug her. He didn’t have to prove his worth to her, because him being ZiM was enough for her to appreciate him. And, well…

_… he couldn’t really say the same for the Empire now, could he?_ So… _why would he care for their opinion on him and Driver?_ Were they even to be given any credit, when they denied him something that felt so good and so _natural?_

Zim let out a long sigh, and slowly reopened his eyes: Driver still had that same sweet, caring expression on her, as she returned his gaze.

That only confirmed it further: he _wanted_ her. He wanted her so badly, in every sense of the word: _touch_ her, _hug_ her, _kiss_ her, he wanted for them to always be together, and thinking that she also wished the same filled him with an _unbridled_ kind of happiness that he'd never felt before.

No sir: he didn’t care _one bit_ what the Empire and the other Irkens, or even the _Tallest,_ or anyone else for that matter would think of him and her. He’d denied that part of himself long enough: now it was time to finally _act on it._

“You know, Driver?” he said. “I’ve learnt something else important from my memories”

“Mh? Which is?” she asked with curiosity.

“Well… If I tried to hug someone from the moment of my hatching, that means that… maybe...” he spoke carefully; his hands nervously tugged at the sleeve of each other’s glove, as he finally pushed those difficult words out: “… maybe affection isn’t something I need to _learn._ It’s something I need to _remember”._

Driver’s mouth widened in an enthusiastic smile: so he’d finally realized it? That love wasn’t something unnatural for him?

“That’s _amazing”_ she breathed out. “I’m so proud of you, Zim!”, and she really, really was: all that time she’d been afraid that he wouldn’t ever get over all the propaganda that had been drilled into his head. And yet here he stood, finally free of that oppressive, toxic mindset.

Zim smiled back. Two people, telling him they were proud of him on the same day? Was it all that was happening a dream? It might as well be, with how crazy and absurd it all was.

He kept his eyes fixed into hers, as he slowly but surely removed his right glove, and placed it on the bed next to him. Then, he did the same with the left one.

Driver observed that gesture with a mix of confusion and awe: she’d only ever seen his right arm and hand bare, and only once, when he’d burnt his glove. What was he trying to do?

He slowly raised his hands up to her face: his fingers brushed her cheeks; they traced around her cheekbones, then her temples, then down to her cheeks again, trailing along her face’s features that were painted grey by the dim sunlight. Not being used to feeling much of anything with his bare hands, his sense of touch must have been especially heightened, because every smallest touch of her skin, no matter how brief or slight, seemed to be sending a little shock through his fingertips. And he made sure to _savor_ each and every one of them.

Driver tried to keep as still as possible as Zim’s naked hands touched her skin for the first time; her heart’s pace hastened, and her cheeks blushed: she’d imagined what his bare hands would feel like on her skin so many times before, and she couldn’t believe it was now actually happening. So she patiently waited, as Zim explored that new sensation; listening to the sound of the rain, outside, hitting on the window’s glass, on her house’s walls, on the roof: it was like a sort of quiet concert was playing in the background all around them.

Zim’s hands slowly trailed down: he grabbed her hands, which had been resting on his shoulders, and carefully slid his open palms against hers.

He shivered. Oh, that was _a lot._ _Obviously,_ her hands’ shape, texture, and hardness were much different from her face’s, but the difference in terms of touch intensity was still _staggering;_ maybe because they could actually _respond_ to his touches.

Still, he pushed through that intensity, and somehow found the firmness to intertwine his fingers with hers; Driver followed and accommodated each of his movements, closing her own fingers on his in the end.

_“Uh-!”_ Zim couldn’t help but gasp: now their hands were closed on each other; they almost felt like they were locked together, as if they couldn’t possibly separate again even if they both tried.

“T-this, uhm… this is _intense”_ Zim quietly commented. _“Skin to skin...”_

“You alright?” Driver asked, “Last time I did this, you, ehm… didn’t take it too well”

“I am” Zim nodded; and then he added, with a bit of embarrassment: “T-that was because I was overwhelmed by how… _good_ it felt”

“Aw” Driver smiled, and gave his hands another squeeze.

Zim took one more glance at their joined hands; then, he looked back into her eyes; slowly, he stretched up, his weight shifting onto his knees, his lips puckering as he got closer to her own.

He disentangled his fingers from hers (much to his surprise, her fingers slipped right past his). He cupped her cheeks, and her lips easily opened under his kiss, soft, and moist, and warm, and oh how he’d missed that beautiful sensation! And despite having kissed her like that before, holding her face, being able to directly feel her skin under his felt… _different._ More _intimate,_ somehow. Like for the first time he was actually, _fully_ experiencing what her body felt like. And he still wanted _more._

His hands slid down, passing on her chin, on her neck, down to her shoulders, and finally on her bare arms, under her jacket’s sleeves; his mouth followed that same path: he left a peck on her chin, then started kissing her neck, imitating the movements she’d so often used on him.

Driver stiffened as she felt his damp, gentle lips opening and closing on her neck’s skin; she tilted her head back, and squeezed her eyes shut, lips trembling. That delightfully tickling sensation was pleasant _-too_ pleasant in fact: it was stirring up certain _inappropriate_ movements, down in her groin. She’d better tell him to slow down and-

“You’re not going to touch me?”

Driver turned her eyes down: Zim was looking up at her, with his face still close to her naked neck, and he certainly looked... _lustful._ Or so he seemed, by the look in his expectant eyes.

Between her legs, an unmistakable electric jolt of _arousal_ propagated into her whole lower half.

She swallowed, trying to regulate her breathing. Was he… trying to do what she _thought_ he was?

“Only if you want” she whispered.

Zim tilted his head. It wasn’t like her to hold back like that, especially when he showed himself to be eager for her touch. So he grabbed her hands by the wrists, guiding the left one to his cheek, and the right one to his neck; he rubbed his cheek against her palm, and smiled at her:

_“Of course I want”_ he said in a quiet, suave voice.

Driver bit her lips; oh, man. Did he even know how hot and bothered he managed to get her? She was gonna have to try extra hard to suppress her excitement...

Slowly and gently, Driver leaned in and kissed him under his eye; on his cheek; on his _lips._

Zim smiled into her kiss, his teeth softly closing around her lower lip as he sucked on it; his hands touched her hips, then started trailing up and down as he felt the shape of her body. Driver did something similar, as her right hand started stroking as much of his back as she could under his PAK.

She’d touched him before in much more intimate, _intense_ ways, but that movement of her hand, coupled with her kisses, still managed to make a certain _familiar warmth_ rise and emanate from his crotch; only _this_ time, instead of ignoring it or trying to suppress it, he made a conscious effort to _focus_ his attention on it.

He shivered as the sensation instantly grew more strong and more pleasant: he kissed her faster, deeper, his hands moving erratically and more brashly against her body, and the more he touched her, the more that warmth intensified, until it became like a _heatwave,_ pressing and shaking against all of his insides. And it felt so, SO _good._

Without really any conscious input on his part, his hips started rocking back and forth, somehow intensifying it even further. He wasn’t just making it up, was he? His body really was trying to send him a message: it wanted him to do something. It was signaling him to… _touch_ there.

Zim grabbed her wrist again and guided it down, towards that heat; Driver instinctively tried to withdraw her hand, but he pulled it down more decisively.

Driver broke their kiss, confused, uncertain, her heart suddenly pounding harder in her chest: he’d always given her ambiguous signals, but that certainly _wasn't_ one of them.

“Are… are you _sure?”_ she panted.

Zim frowned, his cheeks flaring up as he saw her concerned expression.

“Don’t make this _weird,_ Driver” he hissed: if she didn’t do it now, that sensation might pass, along with the chance to put it to the test.

He composed himself, and went on in a calmer tone:

“… but, yes. Go ahead, and-” he leaned on her, his chin resting on her shoulder, his face brushing against her hair.

Driver trembled: he’d gotten so close to her ear, she could clearly hear the clicking of his tongue as he whispered:

_"… don't hold back"._

Her heart jumped in her throat: he really did mean _that. For real,_ this time: he was genuinely _aroused,_ and well _aware_ of it.

His hand pulled on hers once more, and her fingertips briefly touched the fabric of his pants’ crotch. He kissed her cheek; he placed one hand back on her shoulder, stroking her neck with his thumb, encouraging her.

Another pleasant shiver shook Driver’s body; she closed her eyes, and sighed. Zim was clearly trying to lose himself in the present, as difficult as that usually was for him: so why shouldn’t she?

Ignited with renewed passion, Driver turned to shove her face into the crook of his neck; at the same time, her hand cupped his crotch.

Zim barely held in a gasp when her mouth took in a bit of skin, sucking on it, nibbling on it; below, her hand started working faster and faster between his legs, opening and closing on his crotch, _rubbing_ him, _massaging_ him, sending the heatwave over a threshold of pleasure it’d never reached before, to the point that he felt his lower insides _churning_ on themselves. H is breathing became irregular and heavy, his body started clenching and buc king; his hands tightly grasped her arms, fingers digging _deep_ into her skin.

Driver finally decided to go for it: her hand lifted up his tunic; it slid down, along his shirt, over his belly, and sneaked into his pants.

When her palm pressed on his naked crotch, the guts-churning became a series of _cramps:_ a series of torturous, _pleasant_ cramps. His hips spasmed, and his chin jerked up, leaving more room for her to move her mouth and nibble on another part of his neck, closer to his jawline.

_“Ah-!_ ” a surprised yelp came out his throat: his crotch felt very different from last time, they _both_ noticed it. It was _hotter._ And that slit of skin between his legs, especially, was… _wet._ And _slick._

Zim panicked for a moment: was that _sweat?_ Was he _sweating_ all over her hand?! He was ready to jump out of her grasp and apologize profusely, but she didn’t seem the least bit bothered by it: if anything, she seemed to be rubbing harder on him, now that she’d found that wet patch of skin.

And it was exactly what Driver was doing: _that_ was the reaction she’d been looking; her fingers smoothly slipped between the folds of skin, reaching the same softer, but rougher tissue with much more ease than the other time, until-

Zim widened his eyes in even greater surprise: Driver's fingers were touching at something _hard_ inside him. Was that... _a bone?_ But no, it couldn't be! Not only was it impossible for her to reach his skeleton _that_ easily from that angle, that hard thing was getting _bigger:_ Driver soon had to gradually withdraw her hand out of his clothes to make room for it, with her fingertips struggling to stroke its tip.

He shook all over: those little strokes felt so intense, like she was touching at a bundle of _nerves_ inside him. And then, something even weirder happened: that thing brushed against his pants' inner fabric. So it wasn't simply getting bigger: it was _coming out of him._ Yes, just now, he distinctly felt it slide on his skin, and poke out of his clothes!

Driver smiled as she felt that shape with her hand: she'd been afraid that Zim wouldn't have a shaft to work with -or anything at all for that matter- but whatever was under her fingers had an undoubtedly _phallic_ frame.

As for Zim, who had no idea what the word ‘phallic’ even meant, his first thought about it was a panicked, terrified: _‘My organs are coming out of me’._

"D-Driver, what- _what-!"_ he squirmed out of her embrace, jumping back on the bed, and looked down.

His heart thudded, as he saw that something really _had_ come out of him: it was _flesh-colored,_ had an _elongated_ shape, and weirdest of all, he could _perfectly_ feel it as a part of his own body.

"W-What is THAT?!" he exclaimed, completely appalled and out of breath.

Driver too stared down at the thing in his pants, but with _excitement:_ she still couldn’t believe it. She was looking at Zim’s _genitals!_ And she’d _touched_ them! She could hardly resist the temptation to pull his pants further down to get a full view, but thankfully Zim, who was just as if not _more_ curious, did that for her: he fully exposed the thing to the air, shuddering at the sudden change of temperature on its surface -yet another proof that it was _indeed_ a part of him.

He spread his legs further apart and tilted his head left and right, attentively and fearfully examining it: it was apparently poking out of a cavity in his body, hidden under the skin folds between his legs, and it had an arched shape, so that its tip was pointed right back at his face. Like it was _looking_ at him. Like a _parasite._ It did look a lot like some kind of _wormy parasite:_ pink, long, with a pronounced segment at the end that could be interpreted as its head. He tried to reach and touch it, and his hand jerked back when he actually felt his own touch: so it really _was_ part of his body? He could feel it pretty well. Then again, some parasites were capable of sharing their senses with their hosts… _fusing_ , _assimilating_ _with them_ _,_ until no difference between the two could be told anymore-

"Looks like a set of perfectly normal male genitalia to me” Driver replied: she’d noticed on Zim’s face that he was about to freak out, so she tried to act casual about it.

“It is…? These are genitals…? _I have genitals?!”_ he repeated, incredulous. “Y-you mean all this time, this thing’s been _stuffed_ inside me?!” he looked between it and Driver, his voice becoming squeakier and squeakier.

“I think so” she simply shrugged and nodded.

Zim stared down at his… _genitals,_ at a complete loss for words. These were too many revelations in one day for him. It was literally getting insane: his brain felt _overloaded._ He would have gladly taken some _pills_ right about now...

“Is- is it supposed to look like this?! Is it supposed to be this large?!”

Driver bit her lip: ‘large’ wasn’t exactly the word she would have used there. From his smaller perspective though, it probably did look quite big: if he had a belly button, the tip would be at its level.

“It looks fine to me, Zim. You just need to get used to it” Driver reassuringly stroked his arm.

Zim looked down again, conflicted: Driver had more experience and knowledge about sex, so maybe this was considered normal among the people who were used to doing it, but… it simply looked _freakish,_ from its shape to its color: it looked like one of those badly-designed, man-eating parasites from old Earth movies. Plus, as a general rule, every part of his body that was of that bright magenta color (his blood, his organs, his eyeballs) was very delicate, and needed to be tucked inside, safe and protected. That _thing_ however was dangerously, _obnoxiously_ protruding on the outside: it looked ungraceful, primitive, and so unlike the rest of his body.

Had he had it since before he’d been hatched, without even knowing it? And _now_ he was supposed to live with it for the rest of his life? AND- hey, wait a minute-

"It goes back in, right? It won't stay out like this, _right?!"_ he panicked: he couldn't imagine living with that big, hard thing standing between his legs; already, he was thinking of how he could safely remove it with _surgery,_ when Driver quelled his worries once again:

"Aw, don’t worry! I'm pretty sure it's the kind that's retractable! It’s normal for them to get bigger and poke out when one’s aroused!"

“I- I’m not, uhm…” he was? The sensation he’d felt so far really was _arousal?_ That seemed to be the definitive, _physical_ proof that it was.

"I-I never knew I had it... I had no idea… I-I don’t know what-” Zim stuttered, unsure on what to say or how to feel: he’d gone into this sure that if such a thing was really possible, he would have been able to handle it, but now that the possibility was there, concrete and feasible, and looking at what he had to work with especially, he was unsure he was up to the task.

“Hey, don’t worry” Driver petted his head, and kissed his forehead. “It’s all right. I think it suits you a lot, actually”

“It does…? Isn’t it… isn’t it kinda- uhhh”, _‘ugly’_ he was about to conclude, but Driver interrupted him again:

“Yeah, sure! I like it! It’s fine. _You’re_ fine”.

Zim frowned at her: she LIKED that worm-thing? For real? Well, if Driver liked it, he supposed, he could at least tolerate it, provided that he was able to hide it back in after they, uh… what were they supposed to do with it, exactly?

Driver’s hand pressed down on his pants, right at the _thing’s_ base, and she continued:

“Besides… how it _feels_ is much more important than how it _looks”_ her thumb moved, its tip pecking it for a moment.

Zim shuddered, and looked at her with big eyes.

“Do you… want me to _show_ you?” Driver whispered, with the same tone as someone who’s about to reveal a big secret.

Zim gulped. Well. Looks like she was about to answer his unspoken question.

“Y… yeah. _Sure”_ he murmured.

“Alright. Just stay still and _relax…”_

Her hand gently slid on the thing, up to its tip. Zim shook, teeth gritting: touching it directly had produced an arousal-like sensation, but ten times stronger. And he was supposed to stay still and relaxed through _that?!_

Driver’s hand lingered for a moment on the top, as she felt his… _glans,_ she guessed, between her thumb and index finger. Then she _slooowly_ slid it down, only to trail back up with that same lazy pace.

Zim shuddered again, every stroke hitting him with a new wave of pleasure. What... was she _doing?_ Though full of confusion, he couldn’t do anything but stare down with wide, astonished eyes as her hand followed its curve up and down. Up, down, up, down, she moved with that steady, slow pace for a while, until she abruptly gave it a faster, harder stroke.

Zim’s hips jolted, and he let out a silent gasp.

Driver’s eyes briefly shot up at him; she pursed her lips, blushing, her heart racing: that was a _good_ reaction. Good to know that Irkens’ sex parts worked similar to humans’. If so, then…

“Uh-!” Zim let out a louder yelp as Driver’s hand settled in a new rhythm: slow, gentle strokes were being followed by fast, harder ones. A sort of _tension_ soon started building up inside of him: it was as if a very palpable bubble of energy was _accumulating_ inside of him.

His hands clenched around the bed sheets’ fabric, his heart began to pound and his breath became irregular; his entire body became stiff, shaken periodically by those cyclical hard strokes. As for the pleasure, well… it became quite _indescribable_ . Just like Driver had mentioned, it was its own kind of sensation, but it could be compared to receiving an especially relaxing massage, or tasting a new delicious type of food, in that _he absolutely didn’t want it to stop._

Zim squeezed his eyes shut. Thinking about something that _wasn’t_ that growing pleasure was becoming hard, but he still had enough reason to deduce t hat although they weren't _technically_ mating, she was at least stimulating his parts to make him feel something very _similar_ to it.

Driver too was having trouble controlling her excitement: she was so enthralled, watching Zim being pleasured by her own hand, trying to take in every single detail her eyes could notice -his body shook and his antennae twitched every time she rubbed him faster, his mouth was half open, his eyes were squinting, his eyebrows were frowning as he tried to cope with the pleasure- that she started panting at his same irregular, struggling rhythm too. God, he was so so _gorgeous,_ and he wasn’t even aware of it, was he? That sight made her want to _see_ even more. Want to _give_ him even more.

_“Ah-!”_ Zim’s eyes shot back open as Driver suddenly hastened her pace.

Actually, ‘hasten’ didn’t remotely cut it: now her whole arm up to the shoulder was quickly moving up and down, as she put pretty much all the strength and speed her limb was capable of into the rubbing.

Zim’s windpipe seemingly closed on him, his heartbeat became erratic: she was rubbing him so hard, he could hear the slapping sounds of her hand’s side as it _pounded_ against his body.

“ _A-ah, Dr- Driv- errr-!”_ he whined; the friction between his thing and her fingers wrapped around it had become so unbearably pleasant, it was almost _hurting_ him. He was just about to tell her to _please_ slow down, when she suddenly shoved her face into his neck and _licked_ him.

“ _Aaah! Uuuh- - -!”_ Zim contorted and squirmed, every one of his coherent thoughts instantly gone out the window: he involuntarily jerked back at first, but Driver promptly held him in place with a hand behind his back; his legs too closed together, but her hand kept on relentlessly pounding on his crotch, his cute moans exciting her passion.

Her kisses and nibbles nudged his face and chin up, and Zim found himself squinting up at the ceiling of Driver’s room. She wasn’t even doing it that strongly: the pleasure had simply robbed him of every strength or will to resist. All he could do was stare up, pant and _convulse_ , closed in Driver’s firm but soft embrace. Really, how could such a _brash, aggressive_ movement also be so _sweet_ and _pleasant_ at the same time?

Yet, even in that delirious state of his -no, maybe _exactly_ because of it- the hostile, cruel voice from earlier made its way back into his mind:

_Look at you. Letting yourself be touched by an alien like this._

Zim held his breath in; his sense of touch wasn’t the only one being heightened by the pleasure: he could also perfectly hear every single rub between Driver’s fingers and that weird new appendage of his, as well as the sound of rain outside; even in the dim light, he could make out the small cracks on the ceiling’s surface.

_What if somebody knew?_

Driver raised her mouth from his neck:

“Open your mouth” she whispered, and he felt her breath against his chin.

_What if somebody saw?_

Her tongue licked at his lips, in an encouragement to

_“Open it”,_ she repeated.

Zim parted his lips -he hadn’t even noticed he’d been keeping them pursed together. They’d probably clenched together with the rest of his body- and Driver immediately pushed her mouth onto his, a low, hungry moan coming from her throat.

_You should be ashamed of yourself._

Her tongue wiggled its way into his mouth; her arm hugged him closer to her body; her hand around his thing didn’t feel like it was made of flesh anymore; he couldn’t even feel the thing itself very well: all he could feel was a _burning, incorporeal_ fulcrum of _pure pleasure,_ emanating its warmth and energy through all his body, and the pumping friction around it.

All of a sudden, he realized: _something_ was coming. _Something_ even more intense and pleasant was about to hit his body: h e could feel it in his pounding heart, and he could feel it in his _burning_ new thing.

Zim mentally went over the phases Driver had described: first the arousal, then the tension building up that he was experiencing now, and then…

_If you go over that limit, you’ll never come back. You realize it, right?_

Zim moved his hand, feeling his way to Driver’s jacket, and he tightly gripped it; with the reassuring awareness of her closeness in mind, Zim mentally spelled:

_SHUT UP._

He wrapped his long tongue around hers; he pulled on her jacket, an invite to be touched _harder, faster._

Driver obliged: the hand behind his back sneaked under his arm and squeezed his chest, while the other intensified its rubbing motion even more.

It was at that point that all of his senses suddenly blacked out: he couldn’t see anything, hear anything, _feel_ anything that wasn’t that _pleasure._

The pleasure itself suddenly increased, its scorching flame made its way up all throughout his body, setting ablaze every inch of it.

Every part of him _seizured_ -as in, much more strongly than it had before; his head jerked back, his convulsions pushed all the air in his spooch out in a single, chocked out gasp: for a few seconds, all his thoughts were completely nullified; as if a white, blinding light of _ecstasy_ had been lit up inside his brain.

Driver hugged him tighter, she pumped her hand as fast as she could as to prolong his orgasm for as long as possible; soon, she felt a wet spot expand on her palm.

_“Aaaah! Ah- uh-!”_ Zim’s sharply pushed his face into her chest, and his shaking became so strong, it almost knocked her hand off him: that seemed to be a good time to stop.

As soon as Driver’s hand left his thing, that shaking pleasure faded: actually, there was still pleasure, but it was _weaker,_ as if dispersed all over his body. It reminded him of the pleasant sensation he felt after he stretched, or did a workout, gently settling into his muscles and his bones like a warm, cozy blanket.

Zim put a hand on his chest, to assess his body’s conditions now that he could think straight again: his heart was still pounding, but on its way to simmer down. He was still panting, but he could control his breathing. His sense and mind were cleared, able to function normally again: whatever Driver had been doing to him was now over. And that _whatever_ was...

While Zim was busy settling down and processing his first climax ever, Driver shifted a bit away from him and took a sneaky glance at the hand he’d sprayed with his seed, hiding it behind her side: with how self-conscious and squeamish he was, she didn't want him feeling bad about getting his body fluids on her.

She grabbed the cloth handkerchief in her pants’ back pocket, and wiped her hand in it as best as she could, careful not to taint her bed sheets or clothes.

"You ok, baby?" she asked him, her clean hand stroking his shoulder.

Zim jumped: for a moment there, he’d forgotten there was someone else sitting beside him. He stared up at her for a moment, eyes wide open and mouth trembling.

“W… w-was, was _that-”_

He looked down between his legs, at the _culprit_ of it all: the worm-thing was still standing there, much more sensitive than before, _pulsing._ To think that such a limited part of his body could cause such a strong reaction and make him lose all control! … what was that _word_ Driver had used again?

"… was that an _orgasm?!_ " he gasped back at her.

"Pretty sure it was” Driver nodded. “Did you like it?"

"Uhhh, I-I, uh-" he stuttered: he was still trying to process that overwhelming experience himself, but if he had to summarize it, the only word that would come to his mind was… _mesmerizing_ _._

"Is... is that how it feels? _All the time?!”_ Zim hastily asked, “Every time you do it it feels like this?!"

"Pretty much" Driver confirmed.

Zim looked back at his new organ, incredulous not only that such a sensation existed, but that it was also wholly contained in it.

So… really? His body was always capable of something like that, and he'd never known?! He could hardly believe that!

Suddenly, the thing didn’t look so worthless and ugly: it _had_ after all just allowed him to unlock a whole new _sense._

Driver frowned, worried: he hadn’t exactly given her a positive answer.

"You didn't like it?" she asked.

"No, I-! I-I... think I did, i-it was.." Zim shook his head."It was... _good"_

"The ‘one off thing’ kind of good or the ‘I'd like to try again’ kind of good?"

"I'd... I'd like to try again" Zim murmured. "B-but, uh... that wasn't sex right?"

"Well, no. Not sex-sex. Not _copulation,_ I mean, heh" she chuckled. "But usually, people start like that, using their hands on themselves. It's good practice before the real deal, you know?"

Zim nodded. That made sense. Hand-rubbing was much less overwhelming and embarrassing than rubbing their naked crotches together.

"You... do that too?” he went on to ask, “To yourself?"

"Er-! _Uhm..."_ she blushed, embarrassed.

She tried averting her gaze, but Zim kept staring at her with big, innocent, curious eyes.

"I-I mean, uhm... _sometimes,_ yeah" she timidly admitted.

Zim nodded again. So Driver could feel the same thing he'd just felt? With the same reaction? He tried imagining it, and-

Whoop. Another internal _spasm._ Not from his crotch this time, but from the appendage poking out of it... although, in hindsight, it had probably been the origin of those spasms all along.

"So... I'm guessing... if we were to rub crotches, we would... _stimulate_ each other at the same time, like your hand did to me, correct?"

"Yup. You figured it out" Driver smiled.

Zim nodded once more.

Driver took a glance down at Zim's genitals. She didn’t wanna be rude and stare, when he himself was just discovering them, but she just couldn’t help it: he had just finished, but he didn't seem to be done at all: his shaft was still _hard_ and _standing_ . It made her want to grab it and _fondle_ him again...

"... Hey, Zim? Uhm..." she bit her lip, hesitating. Then, she went on, to propose: "Would you like to... _try again?_ With the _real deal,_ this time?"

"R... right now?!" Zim widened his eyes, antennae perking up. Now that he knew what that sensation was actually like, the thought of sharing it with Driver was... _quite appealing,_ to say the least. And yet...

"Yeah, unless you're too sensitive!"

"It's not that, uhm... I'm-" he considered keeping that thought to himself, but... if he really wanted their relationship to change for the better, he had to stop keeping all his doubts and fears to himself.

He sighed. He gathered all his courage, and admitted, in a quiet mumble:

"I'm just... afraid it'll end like _last time"_

"I-I mean, I'm feeling fine right now! I really am!" he quickly precised, waving his hands in front of her. "Now I know I shouldn't feel ashamed or scared to try it out, and... I have a much clearer idea of how it works. B-but, uhhh..."

"Hey, hey. It's fine" Driver shook her head. "You don’t have to push yourself. It's not a race. We can go at whatever pace you want-"

_"I wasn’t finished"_ Zim interrupted her. "What I meant to say is, I.... I think I really... _really want to try it with you._ I don’t want to live in a constant fear to be _intimate_ with you. J-just, uhm... maybe..."

Zim delicately stroked the back of her hand; he looked down, and blushed.

"... maybe _hold my hand_ this time? I think that would really help. A-and also- don’t stare at me too much, like the other time. Maybe you could… stay closer to me, and feel me with your hand, like you just did? I-It would... make me feel less... _naked"._

Driver's eyes widened. He was so cute and adorable she could have _cried._

"Y-yeah, sure” she nodded. “So I'm guessing you want to keep our clothes on"

"Uh-!" Zim met her eyes back. "Why do we even have to be completely naked?"

"We don’t! I'm fine keeping them-"

"I mean it. Why do people strip completely during sex if it’s just about their crotches?"

"Well... I guess, when you have sex, you become more sensitive. So if you strip naked your whole body gets to experience the pleasure. Besides, it's just kind of nice to see your partner's naked body. It's an expression of intimacy. And it’s _arousing"_

"Wait, so it's _normal_ to want to see your partner naked?!"

"Yeah, sure!”

Wow. That explained quite a few things. Both about her _and_ himself.

Zim timidly fiddled with his fingers. He swallowed, and somehow found the courage to whisper, just above the threshold of audibility:

"You know, I think I, uhm… _I've been wanting to see you naked for a while..."_

"Oooh, haha!" Driver smirked. "That's pretty flattering, Zim. Me too, by the way" she winked at him.

"Yeah, I figured. With all the times you've tried to strip me naked" Zim returned her banter with an embarrassed smile.

"‘All the times’? It was just twice!"

"It was thrice, actually!"

"Thrice?"

"Yeah, when I burnt my glove and you splashed me with water!"

"I wasn’t _trying_ to get you naked! It was just for medical purposes, I swear!"

"Sure it was" he rolled his eyes.

“I _mean_ it, haha!”

“Sure you do!” he chuckled back.

Their giggles went on for a few more moments. When they died down, it was silence again. Only the sound of rain, continuing unperturbed outside.

Their joking expressions became more and more embarrassed, back to being unsure on what to do or say next.

At one point though, both their gazes fell down between Zim's legs: his newly discovered _equipment_ was still there, with its bright magenta color, standing erect between them as a reminder of what they were _actually_ supposed to be doing.

"... so uhm-"

"Yeah-"

"Should we-"

"We're still doing it?"

"Yeah, yeah, we're doing it!"

"Okay! Ehm... naked, or...?"

"No no! Naked is fine! Uhm… I-it... it’s gonna be embarrassing. But it would be silly for me to hide from you, at this point. Actually, I don't really wanna hide from you anymore" Zim explained.

"Aw. Don’t be embarrassed" Driver kissed his forehead. "I bet your body is gorgeous. You have nothing to be embarrassed of".

Zim tilted his head. His naked body, _gorgeous?_ In Irken culture, nudity was considered vulgar and ridiculous: a sign of weakness and savagery. That’s why they left as little of their skin out as they could. Humans did have some form of _modesty_ of their own, but they also seemed to _celebrate_ their own naked bodies, especially in art, and certain movies. So as long as it was just him and her, he guessed, he wouldn’t risk being judged, at least.

In the end, Zim gave her a decisive nod: _Alright, let’s do this._ _If he really wanted to do this, he might as well do it the_ _right_ _way._

Driver got off the bed; she turned away from him, and started undressing, starting with her jacket.

Zim also undressed, in the same order as she was, focusing more on her body than his own, to distract himself from the fact that he was actually getting naked in front of someone: her jacket, his tunic. Her shirt, his shirt. Her chest-supporter. Her loose hair covered the top of her back, but he could see the sinuous line of her spine drawn in its center: that alone was enough to send his heart pounding again, but then she _also_ started taking off her pants, and he got a glance of the line of her butt, and-

Zim turned away from her, face completely flushed. He couldn’t handle that sight yet after all. Struggling not to think about it too much, he took off his boots, letting them fall one by one on the floor by the bed; he grabbed the edge of his pants, and removed them along with his socks in one fell swoop.

He gulped. He could hardly believe it: he was now _completely_ naked, for the first time since he’d been hatched: on the rare occasions that he _had_ to make a full change of clothes, he tried to at least do it one area of his body at a time, as to never remain all naked. Now not only was his body completely exposed, it was also happening before _another_ person.

A wave of insecurity suddenly hit him: maybe he still had time to take it back and cover himself up. _Quick,_ before Driver turned around and noticed-

In the corner of his eye, Driver turned around to face him.

_Too late._ He quickly pressed his legs together and against his body, in a last ditch attempt to cover himself. He winced, as he felt his new thing being pressed between his legs and belly. Ew. He really, really hoped Driver was right and that he wouldn’t have to keep that cumbersome thing out forever… not even _orgasms_ would be worth the trouble.

“Zim?” Driver’s voice called to him.

He instinctively raised his eyes, and his heart thudded at the sight of her naked body. Her very, _very_ naked body. Last time, he hadn’t really taken a good look at it, but now that he was… _that was…_ _a lot_ more than his brain could stand.

He'd always liked how shapely and curved her body was, but without clothes it was even more evident: her body was _all_ curves, from her shoulders, to her breasts, to the way her body narrowed at the level of her belly button, only to spread wider at her hips; even her naked legs formed curves, and now that they were completely exposed, they looked even longer and narrower and all around more graceful. It made her body look even softer and welcoming and comforting than it already was. It made his heart flutter, and his cheek flare up. And it made him want to _touch_ it. But it also made her look like a completely different person: he wasn’t at all used to associate all that naked skin to her face. For a moment, it really was like she’d been replaced by a complete stranger.

But then, in an all-Driver fashion, her face _melted,_ and she let out her _screechy, baby_ voice:

_“Awwww! Your feetsies are so cuuute!”_ she joined her hands together, eyes shimmering, “They are so small, and have three _twoes!”_

Zim immediately moved his hands to cover his feet, and angrily shouted:

“DON’T COMMENT ON THAT, YOU WEIRDO!”

“Hahaha!” Driver chuckled, and hand rising to sloppily cover her mouth.

“… I’m sorry” Zim mumbled, averting his shy eyes again. “I _yell_ when I get nervous”

“It’s ok. I know” she smiled.

Her eyes lingered on his body, and she bit her lip. He was naked, which was pretty exciting, but he also was still being timid and hiding most of it with his legs. She was gonna have to be as gentle and delicate as possible to make this work: this time, she wasn’t gonna make him the least bit uncomfortable.

She scooped up his clothes, to put them on the same chair where she’d put her own, in a corner of the room.

She turned back and slowly walked up to her bed. One knee on, two knees on: she took a couple steps on all fours, and sat down right beside him.

Zim hugged his legs closer to his body, keeping his head as low as he could while also watching her get closer, _dangerously_ closer to him. Her skin almost felt like it had some kind of invisible force field around it: he could practically _feel_ it on his own, as she sat beside him, even without any contact. He often forgot how bigger than him she actually was, but now, it was like there was a whole _mountain_ of naked skin next to him; its warm color formed a sharp contrast with his cold, green one.

Driver’s fingers rose, and tentatively brushed against his naked shoulder, feeling the round bulge of his biceps. Zim was small and skinny-looking, but he was actually pretty fit: his muscles were so well toned and defined under his skin.

“You have such pretty, smooth skin” Driver complimented him. “And you’re in such good shape. Why would you be ashamed of your body?”

Zim swallowed. How could she be so calm and confident?

“Aren’t you nervous?” he mumbled. “Not one bit?”

“Aw, of course I am” Driver smiled. She reached for his cheek and gently caressed it. “But I want you too much to care. Are _you_ nervous?”

“A-a bit...” he nodded. “You’re just too _beautiful_ to look at”

“Oh my, hahaha!” she blushed “You _charmer!”_

Driver grabbed one of his hands in hers.

“Hand?” she asked.

Zim’s eyes lingered on it for a moment. He took a deep breath in; he let it all out.

_“Hand”_ he nodded, squeezing her hand back.

He guided it to his face, and buried his cheek in her warm, soft palm.

Slowly, he spread his legs forward, exposing his naked chest, then his belly, then his crotch. Now it was Driver’s turn for her heart to skip a beat: for the first time, she was looking at his _whole_ naked body.

Zim looked up, finally meeting her gaze: he was still shy and unsure, but he was also full of affection for her. Full of _desire_ _for her._

His other hand moved, and it lightly touched her stomach, above her belly button.

In front of him was her chest: he had never really realized how evident and pronounced they were, those squishy spheres of... flesh? Fat? Or maybe there were organs under that skin? He wasn’t too sure what they were made of- it didn’t matter much, actually. All he knew was that they looked soft and welcoming, and in perfect harmony with the rest of her body.

His eyes trailed down, to her crotch: her sex parts must be down there too, under that patch of dark hair between her legs. Was she one of those people who ‘kept them inside’, too?

Zim swallowed. The thought of feeling a _reciprocal_ version of that pleasure was making his head spin. And it actually gave him the courage to set things in motion.

He kissed the back of her hand; he looked into her eyes, and murmured:

“I think I’m ready, Driver. Can we start?”

Another shiver of arousal shook Driver, as his hand cupped her cheeks; guiding her down, explicitly allowing her to look at his body and kiss him.

Driver happily followed the gentle guide of his hands, and his lips parted under hers.

Zim leaned further back, guiding Driver forward and forward, until they couldn’t balance themselves up anymore, and they ended up lying on the bed next to each other.

Driver pressed her breasts against his arm as she lay on her side; she kissed him, and her hand slowly and gently felt his body.

Zim squeezed her other hand tight as she touched his naked chest, belly and hips. His heart was pounding already, his breath short: especially because this time, he _knew_ what kind of sensation awaited him.

Zim shivered in surprise, as her hand reached between his legs much sooner than he anticipated, and started caressing him.

He shuddered and whimpered behind her kiss, and Driver smiled as she felt his shaft again: it was still very much _hard_ and _lively._ Was it because it was his first time, or were Irkens just that resilient by themselves?

Driver fondled him faster, and he squirmed next to her; he fiercely tried to keep up with her kisses, but was forced to break away when she gave his glans a series of harder rubs.

“Agh-!” he gasped, and he involuntarily hid his face into the blanket underneath, overwhelmed by the pleasure.

Driver took the chance to raise herself on one elbow and take a better look at his body: it was smooth, small, and lean, without a trace of nipple, belly button, or hair; and contrary to a human man’s body, it was narrower on his chest and became wider on his hips. And of course, down there, emerging between her fingers, was his throbbing shaft.

Driver smiled at him, moving her hand from his member to his belly, giving him a moment to rest.

"See? I knew it. You do have a gorgeous body"

_“Th… thank you”_ Zim shivered, blushing under her attentive scrutiny.

“I mean it” Driver kissed his forehead. “I _love_ it. _I want to…”_

She slowly leaned back down, and kissed his chest.

_“Kiss it…”_

She kissed his belly. Zim’s body twitched, his eyes widening as they carefully followed her movements.

_“All…”_

Driver shifted her weight onto her bent legs, positioning her body more above him: as she shifted backwards, one of her breasts brushed against his shaft.

“ _Eee!”_ Zim let out an acute, but quiet yelp.

Her chin hovered past it, and she left a quick peck on its tip.

_"My Zim"_ she smiled.

Zim shuddered again, and he widened his eyes. Was that _allowed? Kissing_ him there? Her crotch, too, wasn’t nowhere near his own. What was she-

Driver grabbed one of his thighs; she raised it, spreading his legs apart; then, she buried her face into it, and started nibbling and sucking at the soft skin.

“ _Ah! A-ah, u-uh-”_ Zim whimpered, one hand clenched around Driver’s, while the other started disorderly contorting in front of his face (where was he supposed to put it, even?).

His eyes peeked shyly between his fingers: Driver was between his spread legs, right behind his _pink thing_ , kissing and licking and _biting_ into his thigh like it was his own mouth and lips. She almost looked like she was trying to _eat_ him.

_"D-Driver-"_

She passed onto the other thigh, and her hair briefly brushed against his thing, making him shake all over. Now that he knew what kind of sensation he could get from it, seeing her face and hands so close to it without even touching it was _pure torture._ That tension was building up inside of him again, and it was _begging_ to be released: he wanted her to touch him so, so bad.

_"Driver, no..."_ he whined, hand pressed against his face. _"Don't tease me like that..."_ he begged her.

"Aw. Sorry" Driver smiled. She placed a parting kiss on his thigh, and rose back up.

She spread her own legs, each next to one of his own: now, her whole body stood above his. _Now,_ their crotches were very much at the same level.

Driver reassuringly shook his hand between them.

“Ready?” she asked.

Zim nodded, feeling too excited to speak, eyes wide and heart pounding.

Driver reached between her legs and rubbed, getting herself ready for him, stimulating her lubrication, until she was able to push her fingers past her labia.

Zim stared, entranced at her hand working on her own body: it was producing a quiet, wet sound, getting him even more excited; she was trying let her own thing out, he supposed, to rub it against his.

Only at one point, she simply reached back down to grab his thing, and kept it pointed up. He looked between her hand and her face, confused. How was that going to work? Maybe he needed to do something too?

“E-er...” he stammered. “What- what should I-”

“Just hold still” she whispered, slowly lowering herself down on him. “You’ll get what to do right away...”

_“Uh-!”_ Zim gasped, as his tip felt something wet and hot between her legs.

Driver moved her hips around, until he felt a sort of… _groove_ in her. At first, he wondered if that was the place where they were supposed to rub together: the image of a match rubbing against its matchbox came to mind. But then, Driver pressed down, and his thing started... _entering_ there.

Was he… imagining it? But no, Driver was evidently sinking down, past the point where his tip originally was: slowly but surely, her body lowered down until it rested on his waist, fully sheathing his thing inside her.

Zim held his breath, incredulous: that _hot, wet, soft_ sensation all around him… he was _poking_ at her insides, wasn’t he?!

Driver sighed and shuddered, shifting on her legs to better distribute her weight. She’d been a bit too enthusiastic to start: she’d felt the slightest sting of pain when he’d first entered her. And he had probably seen her wince, because he asked:

“D-did that _hurt?!”,_ sounding all worried and concerned.

Driver smiled and shook her head, but that didn't exactly convince him: his pointy, hard thing was quite literally poking her _guts._ It almost looked like it was _stabbing_ her.

“Just haven’t done it in quite a while” she reassured him nonetheless. And then, she also proposed: "Shall we start?”, so maybe it really wasn't hurting her at all?

“Y-yeah” he nodded back. “B-but, uh… if it does hurt, we can stop whenever you want”

“Hehehe” she giggled. “What a _gentleman”._

Driver took his other hand in hers. Then, using their joined hands for balance, she started rocking her lower half in his lap.

Zim shuddered. So there _was_ some rubbing involved: only it happened _inside._

_"Aaah..."_ he let out a quiet sigh: that felt good. Like, _really_ good. Her insides were _hot,_ and _wet,_ and tightly _wrapped_ around his thing: they felt blissful on his sensitive skin, as she slowly shifted her body back and forth around him.

Driver herself took in a deep breath; she closed her eyes, looked up and let it out in a relaxed sigh: that accentuated curve of his shaft allowed its tip to touch on a particularly pleasant point inside her.

She intertwined all her fingers with his, and picked up the pace, grinding that spot against him faster, _harder._

_"Uuh-"_ Zim's head turned to one side as Driver's movements on him intensified; she'd shifted her weight further forward and she felt heavy on his hands, but he didn't care: he would have gladly stood through it as long as it took if it meant feeling that amazing pleasure again.

"Hey, Zim?" Driver called to him.

"Y-yeah?"

"Would you move too, please?" she asked with a smile. "Try and match my movements".

Zim looked down, at the point where their bodies met. He slightly lifted his knees, a movement that Driver accommodated by raising her own body up on her legs. He planted his heels into the bed sheets, and started pushing his hips upwards; he gritted his teeth and clenched his hands around hers, and albeit with difficulty, he somehow managed to push into her at the same time that her body sank down.

_"Aaaah..."_ Driver moaned, shoving her chin into her chest, her whole face contracting, _"Yeah, that's it..."_

Zim blushed even more, his pleasure and excitement increasing as he saw Driver's reaction. Their crotches were quite the sight, too: down there, behind their joined hands, he could perfectly see his _thing_ sliding in and out, in and out with her with more and more ease and speed; the ir crotches rhythmically met and bounced off each other in the middle , like they were _kissing._

"Hey, Zim? What are you doing there?" she suddenly asked with an amused voice.

Zim looked at her with a puzzled expression, and she explained:

"Your antennae" she gestured to them with her chin.

It was at that point that he noticed that his antennae were both moving in a series of erratic, circular motions above his head.

"I-I... don't... know" he panted. "I'm not _moving_ them".

Driver moved one hand away from his, reached for one of his antennae with her index and thumb, and slid them along it.

_"Eee!"_ he shrieked, his antenna straightening all up. He had never felt something so intense through it, even when touching it directly: it was like a mix between a tickle and shock, and for some reason he had simultaneously felt it down in his thing too.

Driver giggled; she kept the antenna in place, leaned in, and ran her tongue along it.

_"Aah, ah! Ah!"_ Zim contorted, tossing his head left and right, eyes squeezed shut, waves and shocks of pleasure shaking his whole body. It was so _weird:_ he had never had someone lick his antennae, he would have never imagined for it to happen, and he would have never imagined it would feel so good.

Driver kept sucking and licking it, struggling to maintain the movements of her hips steady: she'd always wondered how sensitive his antennae really were, and if they would eventually have a role in an erotic context. Needless to say, she was most pleased with that outcome.

_"Ah- aaah, D-Driver..."_ his free hand reached up and hugged her neck.

"Come- _come here-!"_ he pulled her to himself.

Driver bent down, she folded her arms on each side of his head, covering him like a blanket; she resumed with her rocking, and while she couldn't do it as quickly as she was before, that new position did stimulate her clitoris, allowing it to rub against Zim's pube every time she thrust against him.

Zim tried to raise his chin and kiss her, but the proportions between their bodies weren't quite right: her breasts were pressed against his neck, her own neck was at his chin's level, with his eyes and nose barely peeking above her shoulder, leaving their mouths too far apart to kiss. That didn't matter though: what mattered most to him right now was staying as close to her as possible, giving her as much pleasure as it could. Speaking of which...

He suddenly remembered what Driver had said about how touching her breasts was a sexual gesture: so he moved his hands down, cupped her breasts and squeezed them; her nipples felt like tiny, hard _pebbles_ under his palms.

"Aaah! _Mmmh..."_ Driver shivered against his body, burying her face and huffing into the bed sheets next to his head. Zim shuddered too, hearing that sound, knowing that _he_ had caused her to make that sound.

Driver's rubbing and thrusting on him became even faster, making it very hard for him to push with his legs or keep his hands between their chests: her movements were so strong, that all he could do at this point was looking up past her shoulder and hugging her: his body was being helplessly carried along hers, bouncing back and forth with the motions of her hips.

He felt her scapulae and pressed himself closer to her, so much so that he couldn't tell where his body ended and hers started anymore. It was so paradoxical: he was technically the one with a part of his inside her, but he felt like _he_ was the one being filled up; he couldn't see, hear, or touch much of anything that wasn't _her._

At the same time though, his senses had once more been heightened by the pleasure: the sound of the mattress' springs under their weight, the sound of rain outside, and the one of their own breaths, they were all meshed into his ears at once. Up above, his eyes happened to focus on the interwoven vines and flowers painted all around the room's ceiling lamp. Maybe it was because they reminded him of Driver's garden, but looking at them infused in him a great sense of peace and calm, despite all the frenetic excitement around him.

Driver too had her eyes pointed at a floral pattern, but at the one sewn into the covers below them; her nails clawed at them, she pressed her forehead against them, as the waves of pleasure shaking her body became more and more intense: her clitoris felt _on fire_ under the friction with Zim's body, and she'd become so wet, she could feel her sex leaving smears of her humors all over his crotch and part of his thighs.

She turned her chin down, and kissed the top of his head.

"Aaah... I-I've wanted to... make _love_ to you... for so long" she panted.

_"L... love?"_ Zim panted back, voice muffled against her shoulder. "We are making... _love?"_

Above him, he could feel Driver nodding in response.

But… that couldn't be _love,_ right? It didn't make sense: Irkens _didn't_ love. Then again... nothing at that point made any sense, right?

_Everything_ around him was illogical, everything was _upside down._

He had always been taught that his PAK was the real core of his being, his meat shell being a mere instrument through which it could gather information and interact with the world, but now? Now his PAK was nothing but a slight bulge under his back. Truly, he had never felt so connected to his own flesh; it was like the sensations of his body were leaking into his- _his soul_ , to use a human term. In other words, his mind and consciousness and PAK weren't processing what he was feeling anymore: _his body_ was doing that for them, and in a more efficient and clearer way that his logical part could have ever done.

And what it understood now was... _desire._ The desire he felt for Driver, to be close to her, to wish nothing but happiness and pleasure for her, the desire to hold her and never let her go. And he could _sense,_ he _knew_ that she felt that very same desire _for him._

And that desire had a _name._ A very specific name, one that was now written inside his brain in huge, bright, scorching capital letters, it almost made him want to _scream_ it out loud.

His second orgasm didn’t come as a sudden surprise: it slowly crept on him, boiling from deep within in increasingly hotter strides. It gave him enough time to anticipate it, to shove his face into her shoulder, digging his fingers into her back, he clung and held onto her for dear _life._

Tears pricked his eyes and every muscle in his body clenched as he reached his climax: every thought and sensation was stripped from him, except for absolute ecstasy and adoration for _her._

_“Aaah! Ah-!”_ he cried, as his orgasm unexpectedly protracted for much longer and much more pleasantly than the previous one. _“Dr- Driver…!”_

Driver felt his small, warm shape clinging and convulsing under her; she patiently waited and kept on grinding on him for as long as it took until his shakes died down and his grip on her loosened.

Then, she lifted herself up and balanced on one arm, while her other hand reached down to her clit and furiously rubbed on it: she had gotten very close herself, and she wasn’t gonna leave all that tension pent up inside her.

“Mmmm-!” she pursed her lips and held her breath as she soon came too.

Once her own pleasure died down and her shaking ceased, she finally lifted her rear up, leaving Zim’s shaft behind, and let herself fall on the bed beside him.

She sighed and panted, a content smile on her face: it was _over._

Not bad at all for their (actual) first time. She could still hardly believe they’d actually managed to _do_ it.

Once the aftereffect of her orgasm simmered down, Driver rolled on her side to look at and cuddle with Zim, who’d also been panting and sighing on his back: he was still breathing heavily, and his eyes were teary. A little _too_ teary, actually. In fact, just now, as he blinked, a big tear streamed down his cheek and onto the covers.

Panic and worry fell on her at once; she immediately lifted herself up on one elbow, and shook him by the shoulder.

“Z-Zim?! What’s wrong?! Why are you _crying?!”_

“ _Uuuh… uh… I- I’m- I-I dunnooo- uh! Uh!”_ he sobbed, his hands wiping his crying eyes, and he was genuinely confused, maybe even more so than her: on the rare occasions when he did cry, he could always identify the emotions that had lead to it. This time instead, everything was _fine._ If anything, it was way _better_ than fine! It was _perfect!_ And yet, his body seemed appropriate for some reason to push tears out of his eyes and make him _weep._

“ _Aaah… uuuh… I… I-I...”_ he whimpered, pressing his palms against his eyes, and rolling over to her. There was was only one emotion he was feeling at the moment, the only possible explanation for his crying:

“ _I-I’m… sho… h-happyyy…”_ he sobbed into his hands.

“Awwww, sweetie! Don’t cry for that!” Driver hugged him tight to her. She turned for a moment, to grab a tissue from her nightstand, and handed it to him.

Zim sniffed and wiped his tears into the tissue. Afraid that she’d blame herself again for that, he struggled to talk through his sobbing and reassure her:

“ _Uuuh… uh… I… I’m sorry…I don’t know why I’m… uhhh… p-please, don’t get worried…”_

“I’m... _not_ worried, honey” she lied, hugging him closer to herself, one hand petting the top of his head. _“It’s fine._ Lots of people cry after their first time”

“ _Uhhh… they... do…?”_ he murmured, voice trembling.

“Yeah, sure!” she tried calming him down. Actually, she didn’t know if that happened to a substantial portion of people, but she _had_ heard of such a possible reaction; Zim was a very sensitive person, too: and it made a lot of sense for him to react that way after everything he’d gone through to get there.

Zim kept on sobbing and shaking for a while, enclosed in the comforting, warm, tight embrace of her naked body. She stroked his shoulder and back, and pressed her lips on the top of his head.

Though there was a reasonable explanation for it all, she was starting to worry. Had she messed up again? He looked like he was having a good time all the way through it, but maybe he’d just hidden his discomfort especially well… then again, he looked quite comfortable lying close to her naked: he was hugging her back, and his face was nuzzled against her chest.

As his sobbing died down, he unexpectedly moved his face away from her body to look up at her, and spoke before she could ask what exactly was up with him:

"How was it?"

“… uh?” she asked back, confused.

“The sex-mating thing we did” he repeated. His voice was hoarse and quiet, but also much calmer. “Did you like it?”

“Uhm-” she hesitated. She was dead sure she would be the one to ask something like that to him after their first time. “Y-yeah, yeah! I did! It was amazing, yeah! You did great! How about you?”

Zim smiled and sniffed. His throat hurt a bit and his eyes felt dry, but that sudden outburst of his seemed to have calmed down. And after what they'd just done, he found it difficult to feel any shame at all in front of her, even for crying that openly and nonsensically.

“Heh, thanks” he blushed. “… I'm, uh... having trouble finding the words, hehe”

"And you haven't see anything yet!" she winked at him. "I'm very glad you liked it!"

“I’m glad you liked it too” he nodded.

They looked into each other’s eyes, and exchanged two sweet smiles. They both relaxed into the arms of the other, lying on the soft blankets.

Zim took the occasion to look down and check on his new organ: it really was shrinking back inside his pocket under his crotch. _Thank Irk,_ he wouldn’t have to cut it off after all...

"Uhm… hey, Driver?” he turned his attention back to her. “Is this what you wanted to do from the start?"

"Pretty much" she nodded.

"Wow. Had I known how it felt, I would have said yes right away"

"Hahaha!” she broke into laughter. “Well, I'm glad we waited. It was well worth it. I wouldn't change a thing about it" she affectionately scratched his nape. "I'm glad you weren't just a one night fling after all..."

"Uhm... I’m sorry I didn’t speak to you sooner about this" she continued, "I promise I’ll be more open to you from now on”

“It’s ok. I could’ve spoken to you too. All we needed to do was talking about it… I still can’t believe it works so well”

“I know, right?” Driver smirked. “I mean, I knew that in theory already, but… putting it in practice is a whole other story”

“Yes, and, well… the sex thing also helped” Zim joked.

“Haha! Talking it out _and_ sex. The perfect combination” Driver joked back.

“Hehehe!” Zim nodded, letting out a quiet giggle.

He slowly stroked her side, from her breast to her hip. Driver blushed: he was looking at her with such intense, attentive eyes. It was so weird to be so comfortable and intimate -not just with him, but with _anyone_ at all. She’d never thought she would actually be so lucky.

"I love you, Driver”

Driver stared at him for a few seconds.

When her brain fully processed what he’d just said, her eyes widened, and her heart jumped in her throat:

“W… _what?”_ she asked.

“I love you” Zim repeated.

"Ha… Hahaha! Oh, my, heh! Aaah-” she broke in an embarrassed, awkward fit of laughter, “W-Was I that good?"

Zim kept on staring at her, completely unamused and impassible.

"I mean it. I love you” he repeated once more. “I’m not sure when exactly it happened, but I’ve been in love with you for a while now. I just didn’t want to admit it”.

Driver’s smile dropped, matching his seriousness.

"I'm sorry. I joke when I'm nervous” she murmured.

“I know” he whispered back.

“It’s just… love is a very _very_ strong word” she continued. “If you use it, you must really mean it, chief”

"Driver, maybe you should just accept that you're amazing and that people are going to love you for it"

_"Uh-!” Driver’s_ cheeks flared up, her heart pounded hard in her chest, from both her happiness and her embarrassment. “Hah, c’mon, don’t overdo it now-”

"I'm not!" Zim leaned in and kissed the tip of her nose. “I’m just telling it how it is: _I love you”_

“ _Aaah!”_ Driver whined; she averted her eyes, she collected her legs up to her belly, embarrassed out of her mind. “Don’t just _say_ that, I-”

“I love you” he smirked, amused at her reaction. He leaned in, and mercilessly chanted: “I love you, I love you, I love you. _And there’s nothing you can do about it”_

“ _Uuuuh, Zim…!”_ Driver hid her flushed face against his arm, hugging her own arms.

“There’s nothing _anyone_ can do about it” he murmured. He reached for her cheek, and stroked it.

Driver swallowed, trying to compose herself. She timidly raised her gaze back up.

_"... I love you too"_ she whispered.

"We _love_ each other" Zim nodded.

"We do…" she nodded back.

"Wait… does that make us... _lovers?"_ Zim considered.

"Uh. ‘Guess it does” Driver also realized. “So weird"

"Very" Zim agreed. “I’m probably the first Irken ever to have a lover. I... have _invented_ a way for Irkens to _love._ _Me,_ _ZiM!_ ”

“Uh. Neat. Does it… feel good?”

“Of _course_ it does. I mean, my lover is _you!”_ Zim smirked. “And you always make everything good and better, by default!”

“Aw, hush!” Driver giggled. "It goes for you too, baby. Thanks for being by my side. I wanna…” she reached one of his hands, and gently squeezed it.

“I wanna stay like this forever” she smiled.

“We will” Zim nodded back.

They paused for a moment, and silence fell back in the room, save for the falling rain outside.

Zim's eyes lingered on her body for a bit. He couldn't believe he'd ever compared Driver to a goddess, or to an _elf_ of all things: Driver was just a person of flesh and blood, with her own flaws and insecurities. But... that _also_ meant that she could understand him. It meant that she needed him just as much as he needed her. And it meant that with a little bit of work, he could stay by her side without ever feeling any kind of _inadequacy._

That was a very nice and utmost _important_ realization, but... his body was starting to protest its prolonged exposure to the cold air.

"... uhm... Driver?” Zim asked. “How long do we have to stay naked like this? It’s getting _chill”_

"Oh! Right. It's not even dinner time" Driver remembered. “Guess it’s too late to bake the pie too”.

Zim’s antennae perked up on his head.

“‘Bake a pie’?”

“Yeah. I was thinking of baking that blastberry pie I promised you. I can make it tomorrow for lunch-”

“Let’s not get so hasty now!” Zim immediately sat upright. “How about I lend you a hand? It can’t be harder than making a black hole!” he proposed.

“I dunno. One step off and the whole thing is blasted” Driver smirked. “But alright, I accept your offer: you’re way too cute to say no to”.

Zim grinned in excitement, as Driver got up from her bed to fetch their clothes.

She tossed him his uniform, and they both started to get dressed.

"By the way, Zim?” Driver called to him as she slipped back into her underwear. “Did you figure this all out on your own?"

"I, uh-!” Zim was about to take all the credit for himself, but… that would have been a lie, wouldn’t it?

He sighed, as he fitted into his shirt. Though with immense regret and unwillingness, he admitted:

“... I… mayhaps did have SOME kind of help from an _old friend"_

"Oooh! An Irken like you?"

"A _Vortian”_ he precised through gritted teeth.

“What’s that?”

“They're small, neurotic, goat-looking, but highly intelligent aliens" he explained.

"Oohhh. Sounds _exactly_ like my type" Driver sneered.

Zim lifted his head up from his now halfway-worn pants and glared at her.

"I mean, except the goat part, I guess” Driver shrugged. “By the way, you gotta introduce us! I’m very curious to meet him!"

"I'm not sure I want to anymore, and -OHHH!” Zim suddenly groaned in disgust.

“I-I… just realized he did this SEX THING with his wife!” he quietly hissed. “I’ll never be able to look at him the same way again! _If at all!”_

“Naaah, you’ll get used to it!” she reassured him. “Almost _everybody_ does it!”

“Are you TRYING to ruin the whole universe for me too?!” he growled. “It’s enough of an enemy to me as it is!”

“Alright, alright” Driver shook her head. “No speaking of sex outside of ourselves. _For now”._

She took a few steps towards the bedroom’s door. Zim, too, wore his second boot and jumped off the bed, joining her by her side.

Driver smiled and gave him a courteous bow, gesturing towards the door.

“After you, _boyfriend”._

A cute smile reappeared on Zim’s face, accompanied by a slight blush on his face.

He indulged her, and also performed a little bow back.

“With pleasure, _girlfriend”._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally, after one+ year of waiting, it is done... they SLEPT TOGETHER. Heyyooo. Anyway, this next month is gonna be an extremely busy one for me, and I have to take some time to better define how the story is gonna go from now on, sooo it'll probably take a bit for the next chapter to publish. Don't worry though, the story isn't over yet ;) Also if any of you need it, I have an account on Tumblr under the same name (OysterChateau). To the next chapter~


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